


Dichotomy

by Robin_Fai



Series: The Two Sides of the Record [1]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Inspired by Fanfiction, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Fai/pseuds/Robin_Fai
Summary: After creatures are granted equal rights to humans, Commander Endeavour Morse of the Guard works with the Oxford City Police on a case, and it will change the lives of everyone involved.
Series: The Two Sides of the Record [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1737217
Comments: 87
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hekate1308](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wild Justice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22615081) by [Hekate1308](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308). 



> Well, hello! I hope you are all staying safe. I have been working on this fic for months now. It is finally nearly finished so I thought I would go ahead and start posting it to give me the motivation to get it wrapped up sooner rather than later. 
> 
> This was originally inspired by Hekate1308's wonderful works, and in particular the Demon's Among Us series. I loved the way the one idea split to become two and then I got inspired for another version of how things might have gone, and thus this was born. Those who have noticed this is marked as a series - well, you see the same thing happened to me and now I have a second rather different version of this story I'm working on that you should hopefully also get to see sooner rather than later.
> 
> Anyway, if you haven't read Hekate's magical realism stories then you're missing out so I suggest you check them out. The 'Something You Somehow Haven't To Deserve' series in particular is truly a wonder!

**1965**

It was a momentous day. The Bill guaranteeing Supernatural creatures equal citizenship had been passed and come into effect in the early hours of the morning. 

It didn’t directly affect him, or his family, at all. DI Fred Thursday didn’t even have any supernatural friends – that he knew of – many of those that could had lived their lives in hiding up until now. Yet somehow it felt to him, as he kissed Win goodbye and headed into the station with Sergeant Jakes, that this would change everything. 

He couldn’t have known then how completely true his instinct would prove to be.

\--------

Commander Endeavour Morse of the Guard considered the Cowley police station. It was dated, but utilitarian, functional. The human side of him was drawn to the classical styling, and wondered about the history of the building. The demon half was repelled by the near pretensions of grandeur it seemed to aspire to, but noted that it seemed fit for purpose.

He shook his head, demon side winning out as was so often the case. What did it matter what the place looked like? So long as there was the space he required, and the officers already assigned there were competent, that was all that was necessary.

Today was going to be hard. There was no way this process was going to be easy. Working with the law makers to get the Bill passed would probably seem like a walk in the park compared to the task to come. 

Best to get the worst of it over with. 

Endeavour drew his frame taller, and settled his emotions as deeply as he could. His demon side was likely to encounter more fear and prejudice, but it was the stronger, the more resilient, of his two halves. He suspected he would need that fortitude today. He took a deep breath and set his expression, then walked confidently into the station.

\--------

The last thing Peter Jakes had expected, when he had been listening that morning to the news on the radio about the Bill, was to encounter a creature so soon, in the Cowley station, and a demon no less.

The creature’s eyes were not black, but Peter identified him immediately by the smart, tailored, jet-black suit without a tie, and the formal way in which he conducted himself. Peter had met one or two demons in his time. They were so bound by their honour and duty that they never failed to report any information they knew about a crime. Unfortunately, they were also often the victims of hate crimes. 

In his experience demons were decent enough, and he had a great deal of respect for their unfailing honesty. Their frequently distant and formal natures made them easy to dislike for many people, and Peter was not fooling himself that he didn’t find it a bit difficult to like them enough to want to spend time around them socially, but growing up in a place that was riddled with dark secrets and lies had nurtured a solid respect for those folk that were genuinely honourable and transparent.

As he approached the figure he realised that something about this demon was not quite what he had come to expect. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was exactly. The bow he executed in greeting was measured, exact, and perfectly appropriate to the situation. His suit was pristine, and his red gold waves of hair were neat. Still…

There was something about the man that reminded him of another time, long ago. One he’d like to forget. He couldn’t say why, since the demon’s face revealed none of his emotions, but if he had been asked he would have said that he seemed sad, lonely, and almost scared. 

Peter shook off the feeling and bowed in reply rather than offering a handshake. Demons did not make physical contact except with those they were very close to, such as family.

“Good morning. I’m Sergeant Jakes. How may I help you?” The formality of the greeting felt stilted, uncomfortable, but he had worked hard to learn the appropriate ways of greeting each and every creature, and he wasn’t going to let those hours of research go to waste.

The demon’s lips twitched, as though resisting a smile, and Peter found himself even more confused. 

“Commander Morse of the Guard. I’m here to see Chief Superintendent Bright. I have an appointment.” 

Commander Morse offered a warrant card. Peter glanced at it since it had been offered, but he didn’t know what he should be checking on it. He had only ever heard rumours and hearsay about the Guard. It was kind of exciting to meet a creature that worked for them, and surely Commander must be a significant rank. He wondered what this Morse was doing at Cowley station, wanted to ask, but it would have been rude when the information had not been offered.

“I’ll take you through.” Peter set off in the direction of Bright’s office, Morse trailing in his wake.

“You’re familiar with demon customs?” Morse asked him as they walked. Peter nodded in affirmation. “Is that as a result of some police training?”

“No, there’s no training on interacting with creatures,” he didn’t say that they _did_ have training on how to combat them, “but we do cross paths with some from time to time.” Morse nodded thoughtfully, a slight frown creasing his forehead, and they fell into silence. Peter was more baffled than ever. For a human he could only have been considered cold, stiff, and formal, but for a demon he was far more expressive than Peter had come to expect.

As they approached Bright’s office, the door opened and the very man they were looking for stepped out. Bright gave a broad smile and held out his hand.

“Ah! Commander Morse. Good, good. I was just about to gather the troops, announce our news.”

Morse’s stance stiffened (if that was even possible). He overlooked the proffered handshake and bowed rigidly to Bright.

“Chief Superintendent. I do hope I am not late?”

Bright dropped his hand with a small laugh. “Of course not. You’re as punctual as ever.”

“Then why were you heading out already? I had understood we would meet first?” Morse’s frown deepened.

“Come now, I know you’re one for correct procedure and all, but the finer details will iron themselves out much better once things are put into practice.”

Peter felt like an awkward and unintended spectator to this theatre. He wanted to leave, but couldn’t think how to excuse himself.

“Then our next course of action...?”

“To inform the rest of the department. Shall we?” Bright smiled again at the unyielding expression of the demon, and swept his arm out inviting him to head back to the main offices of the CID. Morse hesitated, then turned and marched back the way they had come. Bright, walking alongside him, almost looked like he was skipping in comparison to the tense gait of the demon. “Come along Sergeant,” Bright called back to Peter.

Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, and then hurried to catch up to them.

\--------

Thursday had been about to head out to sign off on a sudden death when Strange had stopped him and informed him that Bright had called a department meeting. He wanted everyone to attend and Strange had been sent out to round up the couple of people not yet in the main offices of the CID.

He thought for a moment about slipping out and avoiding the meeting. Whatever the announcement was it could almost certainly wait knowing Bright. Still, it wouldn’t do to put Strange in an awkward position if he was asked if he had found him. With a sigh he turned and headed back up the stairs.

There was a crowd in the CID offices. Every member of staff was there, including the night shift who looked put out to have been held back from going home on time. He looked around and caught sight of Strange slipping into the room behind him with the duty Sergeant. Strange nodded to Bright, who then in turn indicated for Fred to join him. 

As he made his way through the crowd he finally noticed the young man beside Bright. Fred wondered how he could have missed him since he didn’t exactly blend in. He was tall and angular, thin in an unhealthy looking way, yet, as he shifted his sharp form, the expensive suit he wore betrayed an unexpected set of muscles on his slender frame. The man’s posture was stiff and formal, and his face betrayed nothing of how he was feeling. He wasn’t wearing a tie. Demon then? 

Fred was normally much better at spotting creatures than this. There was something familiar about this one’s face that pulled at him in a way he couldn’t place. Had they met? The probable demon frowned at him slightly in a mirror of his own expression.

Bright cleared his throat and immediately had the attention of everyone in the room.

“Thank you all for coming together today. I know you’re all in a hurry to get to work, or home, but I have some momentous news I wanted to share with you all.” He paused and smiled at the silent crowd in front of him. “As you all no doubt know, today the bill giving equality to all creatures has passed into law. As a direct consequence, our equivalent organisation within the magical community, the Guard, is now looking to assimilate with the police to streamline processes, share resources, and thus improve efficiency. We hope that this cooperation and sharing of knowledge and expertise will lead to a mutual amelioration in the outcomes of our cases.” 

Again Bright paused and looked around the room. A hushed whispering had begun as he spoke that now stilled as he met each officer’s eye. “I am delighted to announce that Oxford, as the location of the head branch of the Guard, will be the first to trial the integration of our services. As such, I am pleased to introduce to you all, Commander Morse of the Oxford Guard.” Now Bright nodded to the young man beside him and indicated for him to speak. The whispering began again in earnest and this ‘Morse’ stood up straighter and bowed to the assembled officers before him. He actually bowed. To a room full of people. Demons really were strange.

“It is an honour to make the acquaintance of you all. As Chief Superintendent Bright has advised you, I am Commander Morse of the Oxford City Guard. I will be responsible for the integration of the Guard within the Oxford City Police. Once I have further details of how this will proceed I will make you aware as required.” Morse ended abruptly and bowed again. There was no containing the whispering now.

Bright spoke up over the growing noise. “I am sure you all have questions and those will be answered in time as the logistics are finalised. I am sure you will all appreciate the honour we have been given in being chosen as the location for the first trial integration of services and will offer Commander Morse every assistance he should require in his endeavours.” He smiled and indicated that the gathered officers were dismissed. 

Some hurried off, but many gathered into small groups to gossip and speculate about the announcement. Fred couldn’t help but notice one or two shot suspicious glances at the Commander. No doubt they were all trying to work out exactly what kind of creature he was and, if they had already guessed at demon, then judging him for it according to any prejudices they may hold. The whole situation was a disaster waiting to happen.

\--------

His human side was stressed because of the people now staring at him. His demon side was displeased that the correct order of things had been disrupted. Endeavour couldn’t let any of it show, and he was already regretting the choices that had lead to that.

In both of his previous meetings with Bright he had allowed his demon side to rule. It had seemed simpler at the time. His colleagues in the Guard, though few in number, were all creatures, and so he presented as full demon with them. He had therefore thought it would be easier when they integrated if he acted full demon with his future colleague. Now, he wondered if it would have been better to just be honest with everyone, himself included, from the very start. 

Endeavour had been trained from birth in the ways of demons. As far as he had known for much of his early childhood he _was_ a full demon. Yet he had always felt different to the other demon children he knew. It wasn’t just that his father was absent (a rare mark of shame in their community). It was also that his feelings had this way of leaking out from his control. Over time he managed to push them down, so that he was in control in all but the most heightened emotional situations. They were always there though, bubbling under the surface, threatening to leak out through the slightest of cracks. A twitch of the eye here, a curl of the lip there, tiny tells that let everyone around him know that he didn’t fit, that he was broken somehow. He looked at the calm of other demons and just _knew_ that it wasn’t like that for them. 

Once he knew that he was half human things began to make sense. The problem was that he remained among demons, and they didn’t know about his human half, and he couldn’t tell them. 

His teenage years were the worst, for more than one reason. Endeavour _felt_ things all the more acutely as he grew into a man, and the rift between what he was supposed to be, and what he actually was, became a gaping chasm inside himself. In the end it was like his two halves fractured, until he was both Endeavour, the demon, and Morse, the human, but separately within one body. 

Years had passed and he had tried to heal that divide in himself, but he still found himself unable to ever quite be fully one thing or another. Around creatures he instinctively acted as a full demon, but he knew that he confused his colleagues. They could sense what he felt in his soul. He just wasn’t removed enough for the demon act to ring true. 

Then, when he was around humans, his other half would feel drawn out. The desire to feel emotions, to express them, to have physical contact with someone, was an aching need so intense that he was constantly distracted in human society. Yet he had never lived that life, never learned how to act appropriately among humans, so even when he gave into the temptation he got it all wrong. People didn’t like him. He was too cold, too blunt, too intense. Everything that he couldn’t hide about his demon half and his upbringing made humans dislike him even more when he tried to act human.

He was something and nothing. Not really one thing or the other, and not able to be what he really was, which was a strange blend of the two. 

Endeavour hadn’t realised that deep in his subconscious he had placed such desperate hope upon the bill, and how it might change things, until he stood in front of a room full of suspicious humans and realised it could never fix this, could never fix him.

Bright was speaking now, introducing him to someone, so he forced his attention back into the room.

“Commander Morse, I’d like you to meet our Detective Inspector” he indicated the man that had joined them before the speech. He looked familiar but he couldn’t think why. “You’ll be working directly with him, and his men, on any cases that require cooperation.”

The DI offered his hand and introduced himself. “Fred Thursday. A pleasure to meet you.”

The name hit him like a landslide. The breath knocked from his lungs, the air no longer clear, the ground unstable beneath his feet. Surely this couldn’t be…?

A lifetime of training kicked in and he swiftly wiped his expression blank. There was no doubt his expression had betrayed some reaction though. He hoped it had been brief, and not too obvious. 

“Commander?” The Inspector was frowning at him, hand still half extended in the offer of a handshake. Bright had already excused himself.

Endeavour took a measured breath. “My apologies Inspector, I do not shake hands.” He bowed perfunctorily. 

“Ah, sorry. Demon?” The Inspector smiled at him, but his gaze was serious, and the expression looked forced.

“Yes. Will that be a problem for you?” 

“No. Not at all. Just surprised.” He sensed the honesty in his reply and was grateful that he seemed not to hold any obvious prejudices towards demons.

“I’m not what you expected?” Endeavour asked. His stomach was tight with anxiety. How much had he given away in his shock? He was thankful for the direct stare that was normal for demons; it afforded him the chance to study the man before him. What were the chances of this man being the one he’d wondered about for so long. He told himself it was a coincidence. Surely it must be.

“I can’t say that I really know exactly. You do seem… different to other demons I’ve met though.”

“Most demons are insular to the community. I work for the Guard. The other members of the Guard are diverse in their natures and there are no other demons in the Oxford branch. I suppose some of their exuberance has rubbed off on me.” It wasn’t a lie, but the half-truth still sat uncomfortably with his need for honesty.

“Exuberance?!” The Inspector laughed at in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly call you exuberant. But I suppose I get your meaning.” He paused, his expression considering, before continuing. “How do you feel about working with us humans now? We’re not exactly a mellow bunch here.”

“I’m sure I will get by.” He tried for a reassuring smile. From the Inspector’s confused expression he guessed he’d failed somewhat. “I worked with humans through the drafting of the bill. I am accustomed to your ways.” Again he settled for a half truth. 

“Evidently.” Thursday’s tone was dry. Endeavour knew sarcasm well now. He tried not to let the remark hurt him. “So how does this work?”

“How does what work?”

“This. Us.” Thursday replied, and for one brief moment Endeavour thought he suspected too, but then he carried on. “Where do you stand rank wise? And how far are you integrating exactly?”

“As Commander I lead this unit of the Guard. I’m equivalent to both yourself and Chief Superintendent Bright in some respects. We will act as a semi-independent unit within the Oxford police force, much as CID or the fraud units do, but also collaborate with CID on cases that require our input or assistance. The same goes for anything we may need assistance from the CID.”

“So you’ll be moving in then?”

“That is the intention. Chief Superintendent Bright mentioned a basement? I hope to assess the viability of the space to relocate our operations base.”

The Inspector raised an eyebrow at that. “The basement isn’t exactly… well… Its been used mainly as storage long as I can recall. No windows. It is rather dark.”

“That won’t be an issue. There are only five of us currently, we would usually count six, and the dark will suit at least one of our number. Provided the space is sound we will begin conversion this evening.”

“This evening?”

“Our cases tend toward the nocturnal, and therefore so do we. Although, that may now change somewhat since the bill passed.” Once again that tiny glimmer of hope awoke in him. How different would things be now? Would equal rights really bring about change?

Thursday nodded and beckoned over the officer he had met before. “Sergeant Jakes will show you around the basement.”

\--------

**The beginning**

Constance had earned her name when she came of age, just as every demon before her. Joyce, the name she had bourne until that day for the sake of things like birth certificates and keeping the humans happy, became her middle name. The change only really affected her within the confines of the family home as others that she was not close with would continue to call her by her family name, Morse, as they had always done. 

She had been filled with a sense of quiet pride to be granted her name. Constance couldn’t see how it would cause her any problems like Courage, or Patience might. Of course their names were chosen in light of their characters, so it was natural that she would feel comfortable in her ability to be constant. Still, she thought in a private moment of reflection, even the most courageous, or patient, of demons must sometimes reach their limits and fail in their core virtue. All she had to do was to stay true to whatever it was she committed herself to in life. 

The last thing Constance expected was to break her own nature so soon after being granted it. Love, marriage, children, these were the last things on her mind when she went to visit a family friend in London, but two of them found her.

The young man that asked her to the pictures had a quiet smile, kind eyes, and lightly wavy hair. When the light caught it, Constance thought it was the most wonderful colour she had ever seen. In the dark it might look a dull brown, but in the sun - Oh! Those soft waves became a sea of red gold threads. She instantly wanted to run her hands through them. 

He was charming, and as kind as his eyes had suggested. She hid her own eyes, and tried to pretend that she was comfortable in the land of human touch and feelings. She told him her name was Joyce, and in the clamour of the busy city buzz she lost herself to love for the quiet and gentle human. 

She hadn’t meant it to go so far. Constance knew such a liaison would be frowned upon. Humans and demons couldn’t just marry and be happy like everyone else. She never meant to hurt him. But then she had felt the stirring of new life inside her, and everything changed.

The one regret she took to her grave was the way she had left the poor boy, fled, with no regard for him or his feelings, let alone her own. It was the one time she was unfaithful to her own nature, inconstant, untrue. She remained constant to her love from a distance, but he never knew. She often wondered what he thought when she failed to show up to their date that night. She wondered what he had thought of her. Wondered also whether he had tried to find her. She bore the shame of the birth of a child out of wedlock, the solitude of never marrying another, the strain of raising a child alone, as a sort of penance for her transgression.

Through her pregnancy she feared that her child would be obviously human. She didn’t know of any other demons that weren’t full. When he was born she felt some shame in her relief that he bore the black eyes of their kind. As he grew she watched him with love intertwined with fear, but apart from his tendency to be more expressive than many of their kind he was no different to any of his peers. With each passing year he looked more and more like his father, which broke her heart some days, and made it so full of gladness on others.

She gave the child her lover’s name until he was worthy of his own virtue name, and promised herself that on the day he earned it she would tell him everything. Constance remained true to her pledge, but she never lived to see that fine day. She tried to tell him as she lay dying, but by then her thoughts were like a tangle of threads spread between the trees of an immeasurably dark forest. It was too late. She wanted to tell him the truth about his father. Wanted to ask him to find her love, so she could apologise, and say goodbye. The words got lost in the maze of her mind, came out garbled, confused. In the end it was too late. All too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to post this all in one go but it just kept growing so now it has chapters. Therefore I can only apologise if I end up splitting it somewhere bad. The number of chapters is my current estimate but might alter a little.
> 
> Let me know if you have any thoughts/comments/feedback. I tend to post pretty quickly after writing as I grow to hate my writing when I leave it and since I wrote this 3 months ago I'm firmly in that camp right now!


	2. Chapter 2

**1965**

For a week or so the station was abuzz with the news; there were creatures now working for them in the basement. Endeavour had deemed the space satisfactory, and the evening of the announcement his team had arrived to begin work. For several nights the basement was a flurry of activity. Items stored were shifted and repurposed, the main room cleaned and decorated. The files that had been dumped there from time to time were sorted and consolidated with the main records store. The two smaller rooms were renovated into a small kitchen, and bathroom/decontamination unit. (No one wanted to ask about the latter.) They had also conjured up two small private offices; one for the Commander and the other for his Lieutenant Commander, although apparently that post wasn’t currently filled.

The officers of Cowley were all keen to try and find out exactly what kind of creatures were now in residence in their basement. They were led by a demon, that much was obvious. Then there were four more to account for, but so far only Commander Morse had been seen coming or going. If anyone higher up noticed that their officers were loitering at the end of their shifts to see if they could catch a glimpse of the other creatures then they had decided not to raise it.

After a week it had been ascertained their number certainly counted a hart. The antlers rather gave it away. He was a serious, stoney-faced man of indeterminate age. Contrary to the cute, harmless looking drawings of frolicking little figures, this man stood at a muscular six foot tall even before you accounted for the large, pointed, antlers of a red deer that topped his crown. He was given a wide berth on account of the glare he aimed at anyone that was caught staring. It was hard not to stare though, especially when he was trying to get through a doorway.

There was a rumour that the rather shabby looking young man that was seen slipping in late at night could be a lycan. No one wanted to be the one to ask if they now had a werewolf in the station. The bill could not undo the years of ingrained fear that creatures of a certain type inspired in the humans of the Oxford city police. 

The final two remained a mystery. Until their first shared case arose.

\--------

Endeavour had hoped for a little more time for them to settle before they had to work collaboratively. It would have given the team time to settle, and the rest of the station time to adjust to their presence gradually.

If he was being honest with himself he was also avoiding Inspector Thursday. The second time they had crossed paths Thursday had asked if they had met before. He had answered ‘no’ in all honesty, and he had very little reason to think his other theory about the man held, it was flimsy at best, but he still couldn’t help but wonder. 

Unfortunately, barely a week in, they got a call from CID to say that they were holding a kitsune on suspicion of murder. 

A kitsune was the last thing he wanted to deal with. They were so… well, _so everything_. For just a moment the thought of what a demon and kitsune child would be like crossed his mind. He quickly clamped down on that idea. He didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. Either way it was too likely to cause an expression.

He decided to take Shirley Trewlove along. The nereid was their most human seeming team member. Well, there was Mairi, but despite looking human, female, and very attractive, she had an even worse effect on humans than he did. That and she couldn’t work in the day time. That was the problem with hiring a vegetarian baobhan sith to the Guard; perpetually edgy around humans, and prone to becoming temporarily non-corporeal if she encountered daylight.

He introduced Trewlove to the team in CID. He could tell that despite the firm check she kept on her powers the entire department was already completely entranced by her. He threw her an apologetic look as the third person in five minutes offered her tea, and asked her out. He was pretty sure the last was married. Shirley merely smiled at him. She always took the attention in her stride provided it didn’t go too far, and she could certainly deal with it on the rare occasion that things did push a boundary. 

The case had seemed open and shut as far as Thursday was concerned. They had found a body of a middle aged man, poisoned, in a top floor flat. After a couple of days investigation they had found out about a feud between the man and his neighbour. It was said there had been death threats from both parties and loud arguments in the hallways. Once they tracked said neighbour down though it became apparent that they were not human. The ears and the tails were somewhat of a giveaway. She came in for questioning willingly enough but then had refused to speak when she realised she was a suspect.

The kitsune in question proved to be exactly as full on as he had feared. She was small, intense, and overwhelmingly tactile. When he entered the interview room with Inspector Thursday and Trewlove the diminutive woman all but launched herself over the table to paw at Shirley’s hands.

“A nereid! Its been a lifetime since I have had the honour!” Her voice was melodious and strong. She looked and sounded young but her six fox tails said otherwise. Internally he cringed - _So much fluff._

The Inspector looked set to intervene so he quickly stepped forward and bowed deeply as was accordant of a creature of her age and power. 

“A demon? I thought this was a police station?” The kitsune asked with raised eyebrows and a curious twitch of her ears. Shirley extracted her hands while she was distracted.

Endeavour took a seat opposite her and indicated for her to also sit. After a moment’s deliberate hesitation she slowly sat, five of her tails fanning out behind her, the final one curled over her lap. With a covert sigh of relief, audible only to Endeavour, Inspector Thursday also sat. Trewlove took a seat next to the kitsune, no doubt using some small amount of her powers to soothe the excitable fox.

“You may not have heard, but the Guard is integrating with the police following the Bill,” he explained. “I am Commander Morse, and this is Lieutenant Trewlove.”

The kitsune’s face was one of interest and new-found respect. “Oh! So you’re _that_ demon.” She smiled widely and eyed up his hands upon the table. Endeavour impassively pulled them out of reach. “A _pleasure_ to meet you, Morse. I’m Aya.” The way she practically purred at him could only be a joke. Any creature as old as she likely was would know there was no point trying to annoy a demon, let alone flirt with them, when they were working in an official capacity.

“Do you understand why you’ve been brought in for questioning today?”

“This human thinks I killed the fascist across the hall.” She jutted an angular chin at the Inspector. 

“You were heard arguing on several occasions, and I understand there’s a report you threatened to kill him. I would say that is a legitimate reason to suspect you. Furthermore you’ve been missing for a week.”

“I’ve not been missing. I’ve been on holiday.”

“So you just happened to decide to go away on holiday the day your neighbour ends up dead?” Thursday cut in.

Aya scowled at him, crossed her arms, and pressed her mouth shut. Kitsune. So damn dramatic.

“I’m sure you had a good reason.” Trewlove placed a hand on Aya’s arm. 

Endeavour could feel the reassurance she was sending in waves and twitched. It pulled at his natural obsessive control and sort of itched at the latent feelings beneath. He wondered if other demons were so affected by nereids or if it was just him. There were so few of her kind left in the world he doubted he’d ever find out. Thursday couldn’t know what was happening but looked confused. It had the desired effect on the kitsune. Aya leaned into the Lieutenant, and relaxed her defensive posture.

“I did honey, I really did. He was an obnoxious fool. Then with the Bill… well, I’ve been hiding all this,” she swept a tail out for emphasis, “for so long, so I thought, damnit, I’m not any more. He said my kind should be hunted like they hunt down wild foxes. I told him his kind should be thrown out of windows to see if they can fly. Then I packed my bags and went on holiday because it was all just SO unbearable. I _had_ to. My poor fur was all frazzled by the _stress_ of it all.”

“So you didn’t poison Mr Arterton before you left?” Endeavour risked the direct question while Aya was stroking at poor Trewlove’s hand again.

_“Poison!”_ Aya bristled, but thankfully didn’t clam up again. “As if we would ever stoop to such repulsive means.” She pouted dramatically. “I’m going to need another holiday after all this to recover from such preposterous accusations.” She pulled a ticket from her pocket and flung it on the table. It was a return to the coast, and she still had both halves, duly clipped as used. “I don’t know when the fool got himself killed but you can check with the railway if you truly must. They certainly won’t have forgotten me. I took the 10.22 to Brighton. I will take my leave now, thank you.” With that she stood and flounced to the door. 

Thursday contemplated the tickets on the table, then got up and let her out. He didn’t have a chance to return to Endeavour and Shirley before Sergeant Jakes arrived.

“Sir, we’ve got another one. Poisoned. Initial signs are he’s been dead a couple of days.”

The Inspector sighed. “Right. Well, that puts our furry friend out of the picture then.” He turned back to the pair still in the interview room. “Thank you for your help today. Looks like that was it for now though.”

Jakes ran his hand over his hair, an anxious gesture, then spoke again. “Sir, there’s… well, we might still need them.”

“Oh?”

“The lab still can’t identify the poison that killed the first victim, and… there’s a problem. The poison is spread evenly throughout the entire of the body, which is impossible, plus there’s no sign it was ingested, injected, or inhaled. This new victim appears at first inspection the same, but apparently they were also locked in their flat with all the doors and windows bolted from the inside.”

“So we’re looking at magic potentially being involved.” Thursday looked back at Endeavour. “You up for riding along on this one?”

“Certainly. If it does prove to involve a creature or magic user then we can decide how to proceed. Lieutenant Trewlove can act as liaison between the teams if that suits her and you?” He looked to Shirley first and she smiled in acceptance. He’d had his doubts when she first joined them but she had quickly proven herself to be much tougher than he expected and her soothing nature was the reason their team worked so well. 

“Sounds good to me. Shall we head over to the crime scene then?”

\--------

Peter sat awkwardly in the back of the fancy black Jaguar. He had been going to get a car from the pool but Morse had insisted on driving his own. He couldn’t help but wonder how much it had cost. More than he could probably dream of earning with the police most likely. Maybe he needed to join the Guard instead. Or maybe this Morse was just rich anyway. Whatever it was, it didn’t endear the other man to him at all. He did his best not to reveal his haste to get out of the expensive vehicle when they arrived at the block of flats their latest victim had lived in.

There was nothing out of the ordinary in the crime scene, with the exception of the very dead man laid out on his sofa. There was an odd tinge to the skin that had been present in their other victim, a mark of the poison the pathologist had said. He couldn’t exactly say later what had made him reach out a hand to touch the dead man. Something about the way the light was catching around the body? A strange haze? Whatever the reason was, he reached out a hand and just glanced the tips of his fingers across his wrist- 

And that was the last thing he remembered before waking up on the floor with Thursday standing over him, and Morse, his eyes completely black, crouched beside him with a pinched expression.

“Stay where you are Sergeant.” Morse said when he would have made a move to get up.

“What-?”

“Residual magic from when the poison was applied to our victim. It transferred a small quantity of the poison to you. You’re lucky he’s been here for three days, so most of it had dissipated, and that I was here to counteract what did get to you.”

“But-” He started to ask why he was affected when the other officers who were already on the scene had no doubt touched the body already, but Morse cut him off.

“You could do with a rest. The spell I just used is powerful. Come, we can’t disturb the scene and you’ll be more comfortable in the car.” The demon hesitated before offering a hand to help him up. He would have saved him the discomfort but he felt so drained he suspected he’d just end up back on the floor if he tried. He took the offered hand and slowly, awkwardly, got up. 

“You’re sure he’ll be fine?” Thursday asked. He looked concerned, but didn’t look like he had noticed the strangeness of only Peter being affected.

“Certain.” Morse replied as he was helping him up. “I will go and see that he is settled in the car for rest and return presently. In the meantime no one is to touch the body.” The way Morse spoke could easily have been mistaken for arrogance, from the Old Man’s expression he clearly had taken it as such, but Peter was sure it was more that he saw things in black and white. 

Once standing he didn’t feel particularly stable. He ended up having to lean heavily on Morse all the way to the car. It was beyond awkward because the demon’s tense expression told him exactly how uncomfortable the contact was. Morse helped him into the back of the Jag, then to his surprise got in the other side.

“Why-?”

“My apologies for interrupting you before,” Morse frowned, realising he had just done it again, “and now. Sorry. It was necessary at the scene. If you had asked the questions I could tell you wanted to ask then I would have been duty bound to answer. That could have led to far more difficult questions that I thought you may prefer the answers to in private.” He looked at Peter significantly as if he should know what he was getting at.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.” It seemed best to take a direct approach. Apart from the whole demon dynamic, he was developing a splitting headache and was desperate for some sleep.

Another of those unusual frowns creased Morse’s brow. “Are you aware that you have magic?”

Whatever he may have guessed at, this was very much not it. 

“What?”

“You have magic. Were you aware? Have you had any training?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous! I’m human. No creature heritage at all.” Well, he thought so at least. Given his background he couldn’t be entirely sure.

“You don’t need to be a creature to have magic. A small percentage of humans have it too.” 

He did know that, now that he thought about it. But still...

“Well, I don’t.” 

“You definitely do. The residual effects of the poison transference spell would only work on a magic user. That’s why it didn’t affect the other officers on the scene who had touched the body before.”

“I’d have known if I had magic. Surely you can’t get this far in life not knowing?” He couldn’t believe he was having such a ridiculous conversation.

Morse frowned again. “It is extremely unusual, I will admit. Normally your magic would have presented itself, or when ignored burned you up eventually. The only times I’ve heard of someone not...” He trailed off and his usual direct stare was averted as he looked at his shoes. 

“This is definitely some kind of mistake.”

“There is no mistake. When I administered the required antidote spell to the poison I could sense your magic very clearly.”

Peter stared at the demon. This was the strangest thing that had happened to him. Surely Morse was wrong somehow. How could he not know he had magic.

“So, say you’re right, then how is it possible? How do I not know about it, and how have I not ‘burned up’ or whatever?”

Now Morse definitely looked awkward. 

“The only times I have heard of a magic user not being aware, and not dying of the consequences, are when a particularly traumatic event takes place at the same time that powers would have presented. Sometime in childhood. But it would have to be… it would have to be very bad.” Peter felt the blood draining from his face as Morse spoke. He was grateful that he kept talking and didn’t look at him. “So, what happens is that the person’s magic gets diverted to dealing with… with whatever happened… and it sort of keeps on doing that and stays repressed, until it is needed to protect the user. Your magic drew you to the spell, then when it turned out to be aggressive, instinctively tried to protect you. You’re untrained so it wouldn’t have been enough to save you, but it tried.”

Peter felt sick. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “So what what now?” He mumbled though lips that felt oddly numb.

“You will need training. Now that your magic has been activated it puts you at risk if you don’t use it.”

“How do I get this training?”

“Normally you would go to a school, however, as you’re much older than the usual students there, I would suggest in this case that I could find you a tutor. It would be expensive though, and there are so few I would entrust to tutor an adult at novice level. Unless...”

Peter opened his eyes and looked at the Morse. His expression was blank, and that was the biggest relief in the midst of the bizarre situation. The lack of pity was wonderfully soothing.

“Unless?”

Morse hesitated before answering. “Unless you wished to join the Guard. I have an opening for a Lieutenant Commander. After my last moved on, just before the Bill was enacted, I was hoping to fill the position with someone with police experience, but the handful of creatures and magic users that are on the force are naturally reticent to reveal their statuses, or have no desire to move.”

“So how would I learn what I needed?”

“I can offer to tutor you myself.”

“Right.” He closed his eyes again and tried to process what had happened in the last few minutes. A horrible thought crept in. “Would it be general knowledge, among creatures and magic users, about the why of my not knowing about my magic before?” He kept his eyes closed to try and hide his fears.

“No. Definitely not. The cases of this happening are so rare that only a small portion of the community would understand. Also I could… I mean this as no…” Morse fell silent for a moment. “I don’t need to know what happened, and I would never ask. However, if you prefer not to…” He sighed, then continued. “Lying is not in my nature, but if you wanted to transfer then I could fail to mention that your magic is something that you were unaware of. It could stay between us. For all anyone would know you knew about your magic but were only trained minimally and luckily avoided burning up.”

Peter opened his eyes again and looked at the unreadable mask of the demon’s face. For him to make such an offer was utterly un-demon-like, no matter _how_ he presented it. 

“If I transfer, you’ll do this for me?” He needed to be clear about what his options were.

“No!” Morse hurriedly replied, “no, I mean, no, it isn’t contingent on you transferring. My offer stands, whatever you choose. Please do not think that I am trying to entrap you into joining us. It is your choice. I’ll leave you to rest and consider. I don’t want to pressure you but for your own safety you will need to decide fairly quickly. Evidently I will return after I have dealt with the scene, but I will not speak of this again until you wish. Please come to see me with any questions.” He didn’t wait for any reply before getting out of the car and leaving Peter alone.

This all felt like a surreal dream. If he closed his eyes, and then opened them again, he would be back in the flat. Maybe he had fainted or something. Maybe he hadn’t yet woken up this morning. This could all be a dream. He laid down across the back seat of the car and let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd forgotten how much I like writing this dynamic between Peter and Endeavour until I got this fic up and going again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of very awkward bonding coming right up.

Endeavour had a headache. Dealing with the poison had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit. He hadn’t wanted to scare the poor Sergeant Jakes any more than necessary so he had kept his explanations as minimal as possible. Counteracting such a strange poison would have been hard enough as it was even without the man’s magic unintentionally working against him. 

He didn’t know whether it would be good or bad if the man took him up on his offer. He hadn’t meant to offer it at all, but then the idea had come to him and some of his old impulsiveness had broken through, and he had spoken before really considering it. Was it really such a good idea to work so closely with _and_ train a human in magic? How long before he really slipped.

What would the consequences really be though? Would anyone really care that he was half-human? Most of the community wasn’t too worried about such things. The demons would care of course, but he wasn’t much a part of the demon community any more. Not since the Academy. The memory of that awful place made him shudder, so he paused to regain control and push it away, before re-entering the flat. 

“He alright?” Thursday asked him, as he stepped back in.

“Sleeping it off. He’ll recover in an hour or so.”

He noticed that everyone was now keeping as far away from the body, and him, as possible. Better to deal with it quickly then. He ran his hands over the victim. There was nothing left now of the residual magic. The poison had left its marker, as Jakes had said was the case for the other victim, spread evenly through the body. The problem was that this was only what was left when the poison was applied, not the poison itself. 

It was immensely frustrating. He had nothing to work with. It wasn’t Jakes’ fault, he couldn’t have known why he had been drawn to touch the body, but he had removed all the evidence in doing so. He had felt the magic and the poison while he dealt with it of course, but he had been more focussed on saving the Sergeant than analysing the spell or the composition of the substance. 

Whatever happened, it had to have been something, or someone, very powerful to do this and then to lock the place as if from the inside when they left. He let his magic flow wider, touching and testing all the surfaces in the flat. There was nothing anywhere else. He focussed on the locks but you’d never have known they had been enchanted. So, more than very powerful then. 

He could only think of a handful of names of people and creatures who could have done this, and he couldn’t see any of them wanting to. So, they had to be unknown then. 

There was nothing more to be learned from the flat by magic.

“Its safe now. No risk to anyone from anything on the premises, or the body.” He announced to the room at large. The other officers, including Thursday, still looked wary. “I have everything I need from here. And you?” He asked the Inspector. 

“Yes, all good. Let’s go check on our fainting friend and grab some lunch shall we?”

\--------

Fred watched his Sergeant with concern as they drove. He was soundly asleep, and very pale looking. Despite Morse’s assurances that Jakes would be fine, he couldn’t help but worry. He really didn’t know all that much about magic, apart from when it had devastating effects.

He directed Morse to the best pub that was on route between their crime scene and the station. Morse looked like he might refuse to join them until Jakes woke up, still pale and pained looking. He entered the pub a few paces behind them. His face was as blank as ever, but there was something tense in the way he kept his posture precise that spoke of an underlying discomfort. 

Fred left Jakes and Morse in a booth while he went to get them all drinks. When he returned, Jakes set upon his pint gratefully, while Morse just stared at his like he had just been presented with a puzzle to solve.

“A pint does you better when you drink it, lad.” He said jokingly as he retrieved his sandwiches from his pocket.

“Demons don’t drink.”

“What, never?”

“Never.”

“Is it bad for you? Make you sick or something?” He unwrapped his sandwiches and thrust one at Jakes, along with a bag of crisps. 

“No. As far as I know it should have much the same effects on us as humans. We just don’t.” Morse was still staring at the liquid in from of him.

“Why not give it a try?”

Morse warily picked up the glass and took a small sip. Fred hurried to change the topic and take the attention off the demon. 

“We’ve got the pathologist at two o’clock. Might as well head directly there from here come to think of it.”

“Did you get anything from the scene?” Jakes finally spoke up. He still looked ill, but nowhere near as bad as he had.

“Nothing on our side. Got uniform canvassing the neighbours. We only know about it because he’d arranged to meet a friend and they called it in as unusual when he didn’t show. Then when asked his workplace realised he’d not been in for a couple of days. Shifts had changed so no one had noticed before. Could’ve been a week before we found him if it weren’t for this friend. You get anything Morse?”

“No. The only residual magic dissipated once it set upon Sergeant Jakes. I didn’t get much of a chance to analyse it. However, to do what they did the perpetrator must be very powerful, and completely unknown to me.”

“What kind of creature do you think we’re looking for?” 

Morse almost looked worried. It made him appear much younger, more vulnerable, than his aloof aura of self-importance gave out. Maybe there was more to the lad than he had realised. He ought to get to know him better since they would be working together.

“I...” Morse hesitated and took another sip of beer before speaking. “I don’t know. And that’s odd. Most magic has a kind of… texture? Some signature feeling about it. I know almost all of them. This… well, it had a signature but not one I knew _at all_. Therefore its either a creature that is so utterly rare that I’ve not encountered them before, or a human with magic that can disguise their own work.”

Fred had hoped there would be something they could take from the crime scene. Two bodies in less than a fortnight and apart from knowing that it was a very powerful and probably rare creature or other magic user they had absolutely no leads.

“Maybe DeBryn will have something for us.” He grumbled into his own pint.

“DeBryn?” Morse asked.

“Pathologist.”

“Ah. Right. Look, do you mind if I drop you there after this and then head off to check out some leads in the magical community? If this is something rare then maybe someone knows something.”

“Hm. We ought to go together.”

“Sergeant Jakes could come along with me?” Morse looked at Jakes, who gave him a vague nod of assent. Maybe it was better. Jakes at an autopsy didn’t seem the best idea right now.

“Alright.”

\--------

The rest of lunch passed without any event of notice, if you ignored the number of patrons that were staring at the demon in their party. Morse made his way slowly through the pint and pack of crisps Thursday had brought him, his face contemplative. After a while of this Peter had felt the need to ask what he was thinking about, which prompted a short talk on the nutritional merits of fried potato snacks that he had not needed. It seemed that demons in general did not eat for pleasure. They made sure that each and every meal they made and ate was balanced and healthy. Peter couldn’t help giving Morse a sideways glance at that. There was no way that he was accomplished at making himself nourishing food, as was evidenced by his skinny build and lack of any lunch about him. He decided not to comment.

He wanted to poke fun at the other man as he would anyone else. He wouldn’t have even thought about it a few hours previous. The man was a demon, and teasing them was utterly pointless. Still, he felt strangely close to him now. He sensed there was something more to him. Maybe he would appreciate being treated just like everyone else. It was funny how having his life saved and discovering he had magic could change one man’s view on another.

The ride to the hospital was nearly silent. For all that he felt a lot better than he had, Peter was still exhausted and a headache lingered around his temples. Thursday tried to make polite conversation but Morse was totally incapable of following it. 

When they dropped Thursday off at the hospital he paused before getting out and invited Morse to dinner with his family the following evening. Morse first questioned why, then finally accepted. Peter swapped into the front seat. It would be weird to stay in the back, no matter how comfortable it was. For a while they rode in awkward silence before Peter felt compelled to break it. He didn’t want to talk about his situation so he cast about for something else. He remembered his thoughts about the car from earlier and before he could really think about it he spoke.

“So, how do you afford a car like this? Is the Guard pay that good, or have you got rich folks?”

He regretted it immediately as Morse visibly flinched.

“The pay is not terrible, but not normally enough. I saved, and I worked extra hours tutoring. It took several years but I scraped some savings together.”

“Surely, a car like this, you’d have had enough for a house deposit?”

“Accommodation only needs to function and serve needs. I rent. No need to pay out on a house.”

“If accommodation only needs to be functional, then why such a fancy car?”

Morse thought for a while before answering. 

“I like Jaguars.”

“That doesn’t seem very demon-like.” Peter knew it was a bit of a change in topic, and that Morse may not be pleased, but he couldn’t help but wonder about him. If he was going to work with him he wanted to understand this strange demon more.

“We’re not robots. We have interests. We just have less extremes of emotion, and generally are trained to keep the rest in check, particularly outside of the family home.”

“So what are you like with your family then?”

“I don’t have a family.” Morse stared resolutely at the road ahead. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Peter felt guilty for pushing. Evidently he had hit a nerve.

“You have no need to apologise. My mother passed away when I was twelve.”

“And your father?” He thought about not asking any more, but the fact Morse was offering so much information was so unlike him that he wondered if perhaps he actually wanted to talk.

“I never knew him. My mother raised me alone until...” Morse trailed off, frowning.

“So where did you go then? Didn’t you have grandparents, aunt or uncle, something else?”

“No. My mother was an only child. My grandparents passed when I was very young. In such cases the child is placed in full care of the Academy.”

Peter had heard of the Academy. A place demons were sent for training from eleven until they were young adults. Other people muttered about it as a good idea; keep them separate and away from ‘normal’ children. He thought back to his own upbringing and couldn’t help but get a nasty feeling about the place, despite not really knowing anything about it. The way Morse spoke about himself in such a removed way only added to that feeling.

“What’s the Academy like?”

Morse frowned. “It is… efficient. It is the reason so many demons are so completely repressed outside of their direct family. They took a cultural aspect of our society and emphasised it to an extreme.”

“You don’t seem… look, don’t take this as an insult or anything, but it seems like they failed with you a bit.”

The demon glanced over at him, assessing, then turned back to the road. “I hated it there,” his face was unnaturally still for such a strong statement. “As I was an orphan I lived there from the day my mother passed until I graduated. They are… strict. Discipline is important. As we’re stronger and faster than humans it really is just a training ground for the armed forces. There’s nothing like the care or attention you get in a family there for those of us that had none. I passed all the physical and academic assessments, but never quite got the absolute emotional control they preached. I was considered unfit to be a soldier so was discharged after graduation. Luckily the Guard took me on.”

Peter shuddered. It was exactly what he had feared the place to be. Heartless, soulless, and all too familiar. He felt like he owed Morse something in return. Morse had said he wouldn’t ask about Peter’s past, had offered a way to avoid others realising that it was bad, and now he was opening up about his own in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“I was raised in a home. Not like a family one. An institution for ‘wayward’ boys. I… The things that happened there... Well, if I say that must be where my magic became, er, whatever, repressed… Well, you’ll know it was bad.”

“I’m sorry.” 

He had expected that. What else could be said really? What he hadn’t expected was the odd sort of sad half-smile that Morse shot him. It wasn’t pitying. It was more like a sharing in the sadness of having a messed up childhood. Like finding a kindred spirit. He half-smiled back. He’d never told anyone about Blenheim Vale, never expected to do so, and the last thing he would have predicted in even hinting at how bad it had been was to be sharing a half-smile with the person he told. They were like the two halves of that expression. One half sadness, the other half endurance and perhaps even hope.

They lapsed into a companionable silence. Peter knew then that he would take Morse up on his offer. He would join the Guard.

\--------

They reached the Temple in the early afternoon. It was quiet. Not too many about on a weekday afternoon. Endeavour paid his respects at the altar then went with Jakes to see if anyone had heard of a rare creature in the area.

He risked a glance at the Sergeant. He hadn’t meant to tell him all that he had in the car. The most he had ever told anyone before was that he had attended the Academy and chosen the Guard after. No one had ever bothered to ask him about his family. Maybe they thought it was inappropriate to ask a demon such things when he didn’t offer the information freely. 

He spared a moment to wonder what his life would have been like if he had been raised by his parents. What would it have been like not to have been condemned to the Academy? His mother had been the kind of demon that was reserved out of home, but not completely un-emotional. She would never have sent him to that place. He could have been like the very few demons he had met that had avoided attending. They were peaceful, quiet, calm. 

And what if his human father had been a part of his life? Would he have fitted in better with the rest of society if he knew how to act? Would he have been more at peace with himself? It was a foolish thought really. He had no idea if his father had even had a chance to be in his life. His mothers words on the subject had been so garbled and confused by her pain and suffering.

He was distracted all through their interviews with the few creatures that were at the temple. He took a care to explain to Jakes about each one before they approached so that he wasn’t entirely unprepared. Really it would have been better to come by later, after a service, but at the time all he had been thinking about was avoiding the autopsy. 

They came away empty handed. No one had seen or heard anything of anyone unusual. The officiant, a very old and learned man, couldn’t even help them. He couldn’t think of any creature that could do what he had described. He left him with instructions to get in touch should he hear anything at all.

The afternoon wore on, and as evening fell he made his was down to the basement to rejoin the Guard. They had their own boards on the case all set already. Trewlove had briefed the team, well, all that were corporeal in the day. 

Lieutenant Mairi, the baobhan sith, had shown up as suddenly as usual, not long after he arrived, apparating in front of the boards. She scowled at the images of the dead men, muttering that they were just the kind of humans that made her reconsider her choice never to drain one dry. Elliott Matthews, their lycan Ensign, snorted in amusement. Alder Blake, the hart, and their other Ensign pretended not to hear her. He was pretty sure Trewlove, genuinely didn’t hear, or if she did then she was an expert at hiding it.

After an hour or so, Sergeant Jakes appeared in the doorway to the rest of the station. He looked nervous as his gaze flitted from one member of the Guard to the next, before finally finding him. He cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Commander Morse, you said to… to come to you if I had... questions.” 

“Of course.” He indicated his office, and the man hurried over, trying not to look at the other inhabitants of the main office.

Alder curled his lip at the poor man. No doubt he assumed Jakes’ discomfort, and rush to get out of the room, was down to him. Endeavour shot him a pointed look and gently shook his head as he followed Jakes into his office. He closed the door behind them and turned around. He would have offered the Sergeant a seat, but before he could Jakes launched into what he had come for.

“I’d like to take you up on your offer. If it still stands of course. I’ll understand if not.”

He felt the surprise of the other man’s quick decision, but studiously kept it from his face.

“Certainly. It stands. How would you like to proceed? I can offer you the commission whenever you are ready.”

“I...” Jakes ran his hand over his hair, unconsciously. “I don’t know. I’ll need to tell the Old Man.” Endeavour tilted his head in confusion. “Inspector Thursday.” Jakes clarified.

“Would you like me to speak with him on your behalf?”

“No, no, I will do it. I just… I need to pick the right moment. It’s a pretty big deal. Maybe when we’ve closed this case?” He looked to Endeavour for approval.

“Yes, that sounds suitable. It would give time for me to draw up the paperwork, and to answer any questions you might have. We might need to begin your magic training sooner, depending on how it goes of course.”

“Yeah, right. Look, could we do that now? I feel kind of… weird. Tingly.” Jakes was trying not to look worried.

“That is to be expected with your magic coming to the fore.” He paused and considered. “Yes, alright, we can begin tonight. However, I need to work on the case too so I will need to explain that you will be joining us to the team. They would then believe I am coaching you on the Guard. Which we can also do of course. Would that be acceptable to you? I can vouch for their ability to keep your future rank in confidence.”

Jakes shifted uncomfortably but nodded his agreement. They stepped back out into the main office. The attention of the other four officers was instantly on them. Endeavour felt sorry for Jakes. He hadn’t chosen to end up in this situation, and as good as his team was, they were not always the easiest to get on with (except for Trewlove of course).

“Team, I have some important news for you all. Some of you may know of Detective Sergeant Jakes. He is a magic user and will be transferring to the Guard as your new Lieutenant Commander as of the close of our current case. Until then he will be training with me to apply his skills and learn about the Guard as we work the case. I must stress to you all that this information is not to leave us six until such time as the official paperwork has been completed and signed, and the official announcement made.” He looked around at the stunned faces of his fellow officers.

Trewlove was the first to move. She smiled and stepped up to offer her hand to Jakes. “Congratulations. That is wonderful news. Welcome to the Guard.”

“He’s not made it yet nereid.” Mairi muttered under her breath, audible only to himself, Alder, and Elliott. Endeavour raised an eyebrow to her and she plastered a fake smile on her face. “Yes, yes, we hope to welcome you and all that.” She turned back to her desk.

Once Trewlove had stepped back, Elliott shuffled forwards and shook Jakes’ hand before hurrying back to his corner. The lycan looked even more dishevelled than usual. Was it full moon soon? He really ought to have a better track on that sort of thing since it left them down a man for three days. 

Alder did not acknowledge what had happened at all. He simply got on with his work. Endeavour made a note to speak with the hart about his attitude. It was understandable he had issues. Hiding his horns for so long had taken its toll. Plus young, male, harts were notoriously temperamental. And by hart standards he was young, though to a human he would have been considered old.

All in all, it hadn’t gone so badly. He spent the rest of the night in and out of his office. He did all the basic tests to get a grasp on Jakes’ strength, and any innate control he might have. Then he began teaching him how to reign in, and begin to harness small amounts of that power. With the team, he set the others to their tasks in research or trying to locate witnesses. 

Trewlove left them for rest around midnight, and Alder left around an hour later. They all worked different shifts across the day and night, except Mairi, whose hours were fixed to the night when she could leave the basement and still remain corporeal. She had been caught out by failing to look up the dawn time several times already that week. 

Jakes fell asleep in his office somewhere around three in the morning. He hadn’t meant to keep him working so long, but had rather lost track of time. He could stay awake for up to 96 hours at a time, so he often would work straight through several days and nights when they were on a case. Many demons could stay up for a week or two. He assumed the difference with him had something to do with being half-human.

In the morning, Jakes was still asleep on his desk. He decided not to wake him. It had been a big ask after the day he had had to go on and begin training into the early hours. He needed some rest. Endeavour took his car to pick up Inspector Thursday in his place. He got the address from the duty officer on the desk after some significant persuasion. He was clearly not a fan of demons. Or maybe it was just creatures in general he didn’t like. Either way, he made a mental note to avoid the man in future.

He pulled up to a house in the suburbs. It was neatly kept, like the rest of the road. It practically screamed family home. Somewhere in his wondering about Detective Inspector Fred Thursday he had neglected to consider if he had a wife, children, pets, that kind of thing. He took a calming breath, walked up the path, and rang the bell.

A young woman with dark hair and laughing eyes answered the door.

“You’re not Jakes.”

He bowed to her, and she laughed. Normally he would have found such a reaction offensive, but the open warmth in the girl’s face tempered his reaction. She seemed more happy to receive such a greeting than mocking.

“Commander Morse of the Guard. I am here to collect Inspector Thursday in Sergeant Jakes’ stead.”

“Oh really? Well, a pleasure to meet you Morse. I’m Joan.” Her eyes were still full of mischief. “Dad!” She called back into the house. He turned to go back to the car, but she called after him. “Well, don’t stand on ceremony, come on in.”

The house was warded against creatures. It made sense he supposed, what with the Inspector’s line of work. Easy to make unwanted enemies and before the bill you definitely couldn’t be sure of who you were upsetting. They were weak, and he could take them down in seconds, but that would be rude, and he didn’t want to explain to the nice young woman at the door why he couldn’t enter the house.

“I think its probably best if I wait in the car.” He said, trying for a smile.

“I think its probably best if you just do as you’re told.” She said with a quiet determination, and easy humour, he recognised from her father.

He hesitated on the step. 

“Joan?” Another woman’s voice called from the back of the house. The owner of the voice appeared in the hallway. She looked very like her daughter. “What are you doing with the door wide open?” She spotted Endeavour on the step. “Oh, hello love, are you here for Fred?”

He bowed to Mrs Thursday.

“This is one of Dad’s. Morse.” Joan told her mother.

“Didn’t you invite him in? Come on in love. No use cluttering up the doorstep.”

“Miss Thursday did invite me in.” He clarified, not wanting to get her in trouble.

“Miss Thursday! She gets enough of that down the bank. Start calling her that at home and she’ll get airs. Well… come on! We’ll get you a cup of tea while you wait.”

“Really, I’m fine, thank you. I’ll wait in the car.” This was the trouble with humans; they did strange things like inviting you in for tea. For all his endless training in exact etiquette, he still didn’t know what to do to politely refuse a pair of rather determined human women.

“Morse?” Inspector Thursday appeared at the bottom of the stairs, further along the hallway. “What are you doing there?” He came to stand by his wife and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Sergeant Jakes needed some extra rest after yesterday so I thought to come collect you in his place.”

“I meant ‘what are you doing loitering on my doorstep’ actually. But thanks for the thought. Come on in while I finish up.”

“I…” If it hadn’t been for all those awful years at the Academy he was sure he would be red with embarrassment right now. “I’ll wait in the car.” He turned and near fled back to the safety of his Jag. He had wanted to say yes, to go in to that warm and welcoming home, but that was the problem. It was a home. It wasn’t his home. He wasn’t _really_ welcome there. 

The Inspector joined him a couple of minutes later. He stuffed a wrap of sandwiches in his pocket and slid into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for the lift. You really could’ve come in you know. What was the use in cluttering up the doorstep?”

He didn’t want to answer, but the direct question merited an answer. He settled on another half-truth. 

“Your house is warded against creatures. I wouldn’t want to disrupt anything essential.” 

“What? No it’s...” Thursday looked confused, then a thought seemed to strike him. “Oh! Yes, sorry, it is! Had some trouble a few years back, when the kiddies were little, with a gremlin. I’d forgotten all about that. Didn’t even realise the wards weren’t specific actually.”

“Oh. Right. Well, they’re not that well done anyway. I could only have undone them entirely, not entered and exited through them.”

“Well then, you alright taking them down when you come to dinner tonight? Or do you want me to arrange something before then?”

He had forgotten accepting the dinner invitation. He’d never get out of it now without giving insult. He had only accepted because his mind had been blank of excuses so close to the hospital.

“I can take them down easily enough, but I wouldn’t want to leave you un-guarded. I’ll bring along the relevant items to replace them with ones that allow you to choose if a creature enters.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Morse. I doubt we’ll need them much though. Oxford doesn’t have anywhere near the kinds of trouble London does.” 

“You’re from London?” It was the kind of personal conversation he would normally avoid, but if Thursday was from London, then maybe…

“Born and raised. Brother still runs the family business back there.”

“What business is that?”

“Greengrocers.”

Endeavour felt like he had been struck by lightning. 

No. It really couldn’t be that much of a coincidence could it?

His heart beat faster. It was no good. He would have to find out for certain. He would do a spell to test his theory later.

He let the conversation drop and kept his expression a blank mask the rest of the way to the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of that doorstep scene are lifted word for word. I love the first impression the Thursday family has on Morse and how it shapes everything going foward so couldn't resist seeing how this version of him reacted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly subtle...

**1950**

He didn’t want to say goodbye to his mother, but he knew that they only had a short time left together now. She had battled the illness as best she could, but in the end it had gotten the best of her. Much of the time now she was confused. She often didn’t know who he was. It was breaking his heart and most of the time he couldn’t let it show. 

The nurses that visited, and now the ones at the hospice always called him ‘brave’ and ‘polite’. He hoped that neither of those virtues would become his name. It was such an effort to be like that. It was so tiring. To have to keep being brave, or endlessly polite the rest of his life would be more than he could endure. 

Many of the other young demons he knew now had their names. He knew his mother had been considering one for him but had not yet settled. He wished that she had written it down somewhere, or that she had a moment of clarity to tell him. He hated the idea of going on with his life with another name and never knowing what it was she would have chosen for him.

Today she was as confused as she had been every other day that week, but he hoped, against reason, that today might be different. She had been trying to tell him something for days. Something important. Today was the day she had told him to wait for. Today, maybe, she would tell him.

He sat beside her bed in the uncomfortable wooden chair provided. _Uncomfortable is irrelevant. The chair is hard-wearing, so it will last a long time. It isn’t padded, so it will be easy to sterilise. It is not so large as to get in the way of the doctors or nurses, and light so they can move it easily if necessary._ He told himself all of this because it was rational. He fidgeted, because the analysis and rational answers didn’t make it any easier to sit upon. 

He took his mother’s hand. “Mother?” He called to her. She was awake but not very lucid. Her eyes drifted to their joined hands, and then to his face.

“Frederick?” 

He couldn’t help but smile. She recognised him.

“Yes, Mother, I’m here.” She smiled widely at him and weakly squeezed his hand. “Mother, you said you had something to tell me today. Do you remember what it was?”

“What?” Her eyes were slightly glazed. He tried to hold onto the hope she would remember somehow.

“You kept saying you would tell me on Thursday. It is Thursday today mother.”

“Oh! Thursday! Oh, Frederick. Is he here?”

“Is who here Mother?”

“Your father. Is he here?” She looked around the room. It was sparse, but light and airy, and clearly contained only the two of them.

“My father?” He couldn’t keep the confusion from his voice. His mother had never spoken of his father, no matter how often he asked. She would always change the subject. He knew it was because she would not lie to him, and whatever there was to be said she didn’t want to say it.

“He’s such a lovely man,” his mother smiled wistfully, “he works in a greengrocers in London, and he took me to the pictures. But that was before the war… I suppose…” She seemed lost in herself for a moment, then her gaze refocussed on him. “You have his hair you know. I wanted to see him again...” She drifted off mid-sentence and began to cry. 

Frederick didn’t know what to do. He had never seen his mother cry. He squeezed her hand. He had read about people doing that. Should he hug her?

“Mother, what happened to him?”

“I should never… it wasn’t fair… just… not fair...” She was rambling again. He feared he had lost her to the confusion once more, but then she wiped her eyes and looked intently at him. “I gave you his name. It was all I could do… he was… he is… was? Human. Your father is human.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. _Human?_ What was his mother talking about. She was a demon. He was a demon. How could his father be human? _Did that make him half human? Was that why he had always been different? Why he’d never really fitted in?_

“Human? Mother, are you sure? Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Frederick?” Her face was clouded once more. “Is that you?”

She was never so lucid again. Frederick never got any more answers from his mother. She slipped away two days later. She was cremated and a plaque placed in their local temple the very next day. They took him to the Academy that very same evening, and he didn’t get to return for over six years.

Sometimes he wondered about his father. He wondered, if he traced him, could he go to live with him and escape the rigid discipline of the Academy. But then he would rationalise that tracing a man called Frederick who had been a greengrocers’ assistant somewhere in London in 1938 would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. And even if he found him, he had no idea if he even knew he existed, let alone if he would want him. He tried to repress the memory along with his human half, but neither would ever stay buried for long.

\--------

Peter woke up, face planted on Morse’s desk. It took a few seconds to work out where he was, and why. He sat up, back complaining at the awkward angle he had slept at, and looked around the office. There was no natural light, so he had no way to know what time it was. As he rolled his shoulders a jacket fell away from them. He leant down to pick it up. It wasn’t one of his. By the colour, size, and tailoring he presumed it must be Morse’s. He must have draped it over him as he slept. Yet another un-demon-like act.

He checked his watch and nearly had a heart attack. It was already 9.30! He should have already collected the Old Man and begun working by now. He stood and stretched out his aching muscles. He would have to go straight up. He looked over his creased suit. It was evident, to him at least, that he had slept in the thing. Groaning, he tried to think of an acceptable excuse. 

A knock on the office door made him start. He hurried over to open it. Trewlove stood outside with a mug of coffee and a warm smile.

“Good morning, Sir. I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee so I made it black for now, but I can add milk and sugar if you prefer.” 

He could have kissed the wonderful creature. He reached out gratefully for the steaming mug. “Black is fine, thank you.” He practically downed the hot liquid right there. Trewlove gave him an assessing look.

“I… If you didn’t mind…” She glanced back at the currently empty Guard office. “I could straighten out that suit for you if you liked?”

Peter coloured slightly. “Thank you, but I’ve not got anything to change into.”

“No, I meant, by magic.” Her kind smile and quiet voice told him that she at least had guessed he was far more green than Morse had told them. “My senses might not be heightened like the Commander’s but I have another sense of a sort about what people need. So I sort of just know things about people sometimes.” He felt a stab of panic. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. It will stay between you and the Commander.” She hurried to reassure him. “I get the feeling you’ll pick it all up really quickly anyway so no one will be any the wiser.”

“Can you see the future?” Peter asked, slightly awed.

“No. Just people. So, may I?” 

It took him a moment to realise that she was asking permission about the suit. He nodded and, with a quick glance over her shoulder, Trewlove muttered a few brief words and his suit straightened itself out as though it were freshly washed and pressed. He felt the flow of the magic over him as it happened. It was warm and familiar in an unexpected way. He hadn’t heard the exact words she had used, but he could now feel his own magic responding to what she had done, and memorising the patterns of it. He was pretty sure he could give it a fair shot at doing the same spell if he wanted.

Trewlove nodded knowingly. “See, I told you you’d pick it up fast.”

“Thank you.” He managed to say after a couple more gulps of coffee. 

“I’m going up to the CID. Are you ready to head that way too?”

“I think so. Heavens only knows what the Old Man will say about my no show this morning though.”

“Don’t worry. The Commander picked up Inspector Thursday for you. He explained you needed a rest after yesterday.”

“Oh. Right.” He felt a stab of guilt, followed by gratitude towards the demon. He’d told another white lie for him. “He’s not very… well, not your usual demon, is he?” He found himself saying. It was disconcerting how comfortable it felt to over share with this woman.

Trewlove gave him an enigmatic smile. 

“The Commander will explain in good time no doubt.”

“You already know?” 

“His secrets are his alone, but as I told you before, I see people.”

That made sense. He downed the last of the coffee and handed back the empty mug with thanks, then together they made their way up to CID

\--------

The day dragged by painfully slowly. Fred spent a fair amount of time staring uselessly at reports from the two victims. Background checks had turned up no obvious links between the two men. They were similar in their profiles. White, male, late forties. Both also lived in flats, although in different parts of the city, and their first, Terence Goddard, was on the top floor, while their second, Patrick West, was on the second. By the late afternoon, they had nothing more than they had the day before.

They had people on the ground canvassing for witnesses and interviewing neighbours, friends, relatives, and colleagues. Morse had his people working on the creature side of things. Research into how it could have been done, and who or what they might be looking for. He was sure there was more to it than that, but he hadn’t really asked. The lad seemed efficient enough and he doubted he’d really understand any answer given.

It had been a surprise to find him at the door that morning. For the demon to have taken it upon himself to help out both Jakes and himself wasn’t so unusual. They were more duty bound than any other creature that he knew of. It was the way he had looked as he refused to come indoors that had really confused him. There had been a wistfulness that he couldn’t quite conceal in his expression. He wondered what the lad’s background was. Did he have any family nearby? Fred made a note to ask over dinner that evening.

Jakes had made it in after 9.30. He looked tired and a little strained, but a lot healthier than he had the day before. He would have invited the poor man to dinner as well, but he knew he’d refuse. For some reason, Jakes seemed determined to be utterly self-sufficient. Despite going to the pub with the other lads he always looked just that bit removed from them, like he was putting on a show.

Morse vanished off in the late afternoon. One minute he was there, the next he had gone. It was creepy how easily he could move about unnoticed. For someone so stiff, he was remarkably agile. Fred supposed he shouldn’t be surprised really. He had seen for himself how effective the demon soldiers the mysterious Academy turned out were in the war. Their strength and speed were no doubt the true source of many human’s fears.

Fred guessed that Morse had gone to check in with his team. Trewlove, it transpired, worked split shifts, mornings and evenings, as nereids needed to sleep more frequently than most other creatures. He had been glad for her presence that morning. She smoothed over the rough edges that Morse brought out in people with relative ease.

Morse wasn’t back by the time he was ready to leave for the day, so he made his way down to the basement to see if he wanted to travel together. It would save Jakes a journey there and back after all.

\--------

While the Guard offices were briefly empty in the late afternoon, Endeavour seized his opportunity to prepare the spell he needed to verify if Inspector Fred Thursday was the man he had spent much of his life wondering about.

He had a stray hair from the car seat, and a strand of his own hair. For such a basic question it really was quite a complex spell. It required a lot of concentration, but not a lot of materials. After fifteen minutes in a trance the colours finally came clear before him. Winding up from the strands of hair were two large braids of light. Each shimmered with threads of different colours. As he muttered the last words of the incantation, a bundle of the threads from each braid broke away and merged together to make one clear, bright, golden-red.

He had his answer. Somehow, despite his theory, he hadn’t really thought it would come to this. Still, the test was conclusive, Fred Thursday was his father.

\--------

Endeavour holed up in his office. Elliott and Alder both arrived not long after he had finished the spell. He knew he needed to speak to both of them, but he couldn’t find it in himself to present the emotionless mask he would need in order to do so. He tried to work on the case, but found he couldn’t focus properly.

 _It isn’t important,_ he tried to tell himself. _Just a piece of biology. A contributor to my physical form. Nothing more._

A knock at his office door made him start. He took a deep, slow, breath, to recover his composure. No one entered. Not one of his team then. He settled his mask deeper, then got up and went to answer it. 

Why did it have to be Inspector Fred Thursday of all people on the other side? He looked a little uncomfortable with Elliott and Alder staring at him, but to his credit was hiding it well. Why was he here? Had something happened with the case. He dragged his memory.

_The dinner. He had forgotten he was going to dinner with the Thursdays._

He felt a wave of the dissociation he had suffered with in his younger years. His human side was pushed back, down, away. He was nothing but demon. Emotions were pointless, and therefore set aside in favour of logic, duty, honour. Somewhere, deep inside, his human half curled up, battered by the storm of ‘pointless’ emotions he didn’t want to be feeling.

“Inspector,” he bowed, “how may I assist you?”

“Ah, Morse, I just thought I’d come see if you wanted to share a journey if you’re finished up here.”

“Of course, that makes sense. Allow me a minute to set things in order here, then we can leave.”

The Inspector tried to make small talk most of the way to the Thursday’s house, until it became apparent that Endeavour wasn’t going to be drawn into the mundane human topics he could offer. They discussed the case briefly, but there wasn’t much beyond speculation to go over.

The wards at the house took seconds to dismantle, and the new ones only took a minute to put up in their place. He explained the process to allow someone access, and how to revoke it if needed, to the Inspector and Mrs Thursday, once they had done the customary welcoming and greeting. 

Mrs Thursday was a warm and kind sort of a woman. At another time he might have found himself warming to her, but today he could only see her as Inspector Thursday’s wife, the mother of his children, and the provider of today’s supper. She fussed over him in a way he had never really experienced. Every time her focus was on him, he felt himself tense. ( _Why would she want to almost mother a complete stranger in her home? Is this what human families are like?_ )

The meal itself was a stilted affair. The two Thursday children ( _my half brother and sister_ ) pressed him with many questions about demons. They were polite enough for human young, he supposed, but to ask so many direct, uninvited, questions about his kind was really not the done thing. He answered those that he could in an abrupt, almost cold, manner. Those that he couldn’t answer he declined as politely as he could. He could tell he had disappointed them. ( _Why should it matter if I disappoint them? Why do I care?_ )

He had eaten methodically as usual, and tried not to notice how wonderful the food was. He ate human food so rarely, and he had never had a home cooked meal, that it near overwhelmed his defences with how much flavour there was in the dish. Mrs Thursday kept checking he was ‘happy’ with his meal, and he could see that she too was disappointed at his assurance it was ‘acceptable’ and ‘nourishing’. His human half yearned to tell her that it was the most wonderful thing he had ever eaten - even better than the beer and crisps of the other day.

“So, Morse, have you got family local?” Thursday asked as they were finishing up the meal. He stilled in his eating. He couldn’t avoid a direct question. Best to keep the answer brief and hope he didn’t push any further. 

“Yes,” he answered, “but we’re not acquainted exactly.”

“Oh? Like cousins, or something like that?”

“No.”

“Right. Well, what about your parents?”

“My mother died when I was twelve. She raised me alone.” He said a small prayer that Thursday wouldn’t ask about his father.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Mrs Thursday reached out to set a sympathetic hand on his arm. He flinched away from the contact. His human half yearned for that friendly touch. When had he last touched someone outside of a situation of necessity? It would have been that one girlfriend he had not long after he left the Academy. So it had been years.

“It was a sad occurrence, but only natural in mortal beings. The Academy was sufficient to provide that which was necessary before I could claim independence.” Why was he talking about the Academy again? He really didn’t want to talk about the Academy right now.

“Sufficient! What good can a school do for a young man? You clearly could do with a good meal or fifty, and a real family.” Mrs Thursday appeared indignant that he should imply that an education was all that was needed. He agreed with her of course, he just couldn’t admit it.

“The Academy taught us all how to identify and cook nourishing meals that meet our exact bodily requirements.”

“And what about the soul? What about the heart? You can eat an entire field of vegetables and it’ll keep you alive, but not _really_ healthy. Besides, you’re far too skinny. Those exact meals of yours aren’t right, evidently.”

“let him be, Win, love,” the Inspector interjected on his behalf. “Demon culture is different to ours remember.” 

An awkward silence fell over the table. Endeavour finished his food mechanically, then stood.

“I should be leaving now. I need to get back to the office. Thank you for the meal, and for the invitation.” 

He wanted to run, but he didn’t, he left with the exact and correct decorum. He wanted to stay, but he didn’t, because to stay for something so human as pudding would likely have pushed him over a line. He wished he could have been less cold, more human, more likeable. He wished he hadn’t disappointed them all so much. 

He drove to the office in the dark and silence, and buried himself in work. Jakes showed up for a couple of hours of tuition before heading home. If he sensed that something had changed in Endeavour he didn’t ask. Once Jakes had left he carried on working with ruthless efficiency, but every now and then his mind would wander, and his emotions threaten to rise.

That family had been everything he had ever wanted in life, and it would never really be his. And it was breaking his heart in a way he had never known it could be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so it wasn't exactly an unforeseen turn of events XD
> 
> Anyways, I don't know who to feel more sorry for in such an awkward scenario of the family dinner with demon!Morse as a guest. Either way I do know I desperately want to hug the poor baby Frederick I created. Constance also always deserved more. More life, more time with her son, more mentions in everything. By this point I feel I could just write whole fics about a character that never is alive in the show and gets the barest of mentions.


	5. Chapter 5

The previous evening hadn’t been a complete disaster, but it wasn’t far off it. Fred knew he should really have prepared his family, and himself, better about demon ways. With hindsight, inviting Morse to dinner with only a smattering of knowledge on the correct etiquette had been foolish. He was sure the kids had asked far too many questions, and then he had finished it off by asking a personal question and setting off all of Win’s militant mothering instincts. 

Yet, he did think she had a point. He had met all those trained soldier demons in the war. They were cold, ruthlessly efficient, and painfully honest to their very core. They were all products of the Academy. Not a one of the demons he had met in the armed forces had escaped that institution. 

Then after the war he had met others. They were much rarer, but he had crossed paths with them as a result of cases he was investigating. Among those that had taken the other path, the threads he saw in common were their sense of duty and honesty, but in contrast they valued peace and faith above all else. They were reserved and followed the same traditions about contact, displays of emotion, and familiarity, but to different extents, and without the zealous fervour he remembered from the war. 

He had assumed Morse to be of the second category, especially given his occasional uncharacteristic expressiveness, so to find out he was Academy stock had been a shock. To go there at age twelve implied his mother had not intended that for him. He wondered what it must have been like to lose your only family, then to suddenly be placed in a training ground and expected to put away your tears and pick up weapons instead. He would have moved heaven and earth to avoid such a fate for any child of his.

Watching Morse as they worked the case that morning he couldn’t tell if he had taken offense. He had left so abruptly, but perhaps he had just genuinely wanted to get back to work, and felt no need to stay beyond the main course. He seemed more emotionless-trained-killer-demon-ish today, but Fred couldn’t tell if that was because he now knew.

A call came in not long before lunch to say another potential victim had been identified. Once again, Morse offered to drive them, and this time Jakes didn’t look so put out. It seemed like the two of them had bonded after Morse had dealt with the poison incident. There was something unspoken between them now. He couldn’t help but notice that more often than not Jakes looked to Morse first over him. He ought to ask what that was about, but didn’t want to draw attention to it unnecessarily if Jakes hadn’t noticed he was doing it.

Their new victim seemed to fit the pattern. He was white, male, aged 48, and lived in a ground floor flat. The property looked a lot less secure than the other two. A window had been broken to force entry. The man’s body was laid out on his kitchen floor. At first it had been taken for robbery gone wrong, but then the lack of any evident injury was noticed. Neighbours reported hearing some noise the previous night, but they hadn’t seen the victim for several days, and there were signs that the body had lain, undisturbed, for a while. 

An anonymous caller had tipped them off to this victim. Fred would lay odds on that it was the person that had broken in. Got more than they bargained for.

Morse pronounced the body safe, but definitely another poisoning by the same mysterious creature or magic user. So, this made three. It was going to get hard to avoid the press picking up on the pattern before too long. He was honestly surprised that Ms Frazil hadn’t come asking her awkward questions as yet. 

They needed to find out who was committing these murders, and fast, before they caught the attention of the media. Once it was out that the perpetrator was not plain human it could do untold damage to the fragile, new, openness that was blossoming between the two previously disparate cultures.

But what if that was the point of it all?

\--------

Peter looked around the dingy flat. Morse had found an excuse to have him on hand while he checked over the body and everyone else was in other rooms. He quickly demonstrated the precautions he would take to prevent any residual effects of the spell affecting him, and how to look for, and take apart, any traces they might find to try and place the source.

It was strange how intuitive it all seemed. His magic was flowing easier and easier now. He couldn’t believe it had been barely two days since he had discovered his power. People studied for years to come to the point where they could do the sorts of things Morse did. He had rather expected to have to bluff his way through anything more than the basics for a long time, but instead it felt like he had known the basics forever, and now he was just learning how to apply them. It felt like picking up a book that he had already read, but forgotten until he had opened it. Each new page awakened a memory he hadn’t realised he had.

There was a temptation now to try things for himself. Morse was encouraging him to practice the small things, like lighting the stove, or summoning a pen from in front of him, so that he could ‘gain better control’ and ‘not be consumed by his own magic’, but he had warned him off the more complex spells that he was nevertheless showing him. 

His fingers twitched over the glass of the broken window. He itched to try the spell Morse had shown him that would show any traces of the person that had smashed it. He looked around. He was alone in the back of the flat. Surely it couldn’t harm to just try…

Peter reached out with the magic that had laid dormant inside of him for so long. It came easily, the spell that Morse had explained, and the information flooded towards him. At first it was fascinating. He now knew that the person who had broken the window was young, male, and human. He reached for more. He could sense there was more. It wouldn’t come clear. He poured more energy into the spell but it only got hazier. _What was happening? Why was the room so… blurry?_

The window tilted and fell. 

Or was it him?

He couldn’t seem to stop falling...

Then, rather abruptly, he landed back within himself. He was aware of Morse’s strong grip on his shoulder. He felt sick.

\--------

Endeavour really could have done without his soon-to-be Lieutenant Commander going rogue and attempting a complex spell without knowing how to cease it, or limit the power he was devoting to it. He could also have done without that same man passing out on him at a crime scene.

Luckily he had sensed the drain from the other room and been able to hurry through quick enough to save the man. Again. Even more luckily, no one had seen Jakes fall, so he didn’t have to find a way to avoid telling the truth about the situation. He had no energy to devote to such nonsense right now. It was taking everything he had to run the investigation, train Jakes, and keep his demon half firmly in control so he didn’t have to deal with the emotional fall out of the previous days.

He knew he couldn’t carry on this way much longer. Something would happen to make him lose his temper, and then where would he be. 

The Academy had given him his virtue name a few months after he arrived. Much like his mother had done when she was named, Endeavour had thought it to be an easy name. All he had to do was try. What his then youth did not yet know, his teenage years taught him. Sometimes it was _hard_ to keep striving for something. Sometimes it was exhausting. Sometimes he just wanted to stop, rest, _give up._ His human half sometimes forced him to do just that. Sometimes, instead of Endeavour, he was just Frederick; angry, afraid, alone.

He looked down into the confused expression of Sergeant Jakes. Apart from at moments like this, the man was pretty good at keeping his feelings concealed. He would have fit in well with he demon community. Although the thought of demons raising a human child was quite bizarre. Of course the opposite – humans raising a demon – was even more crazy to consider. There would be side effects surely, but what would they be? And would the end result of either scenario be someone like him, or would they be more at peace with themselves for knowing exactly what they were and weren’t. What if he had been raised by _both_ his parents, human and demon, together? Now that was the real question he couldn’t help asking himself over and over again.

This thought process was pointless. He set it aside.

“That was foolish.” He told Jakes. Best to set him straight early on before he could do himself any further harm. “You don’t have the control yet to safely end or contain a spell of that complexity, even if you do seem to show an exceptional level of innate skill to be able to set it in action already.”

“Yeah… Fair ‘nuf.” Came the muttered reply.

“I mean both the compliment and the warning in all sincerity. Limit yourself to what I suggest for now. You’ve already seen that given time you’ll be able to achieve whatever you set your mind to,”

Jakes nodded and slowly peeled himself up off the floor. He staggered slightly, but managed to remain upright.

“The person that broke the window was a young bloke, human, not a creature or magic or anything.”

“Something I am sure we could have deduced from the way that he ran from the scene without taking anything after finding the body, and most likely was the caller that alerted us to this.”

Jakes considered him. “How’d you make that out? That they didn’t take anything, and the call, I mean. Spell of some kind?”

“No. Simple deduction. You can see that the drawers and cupboards haven’t been opened. There are valuables in clear sight that remain untouched. And the call about the body came in not long after the neighbours report hearing a disturbance, but none of them say they called, nor would have a motive to conceal if it was them that called.”

Jakes nodded his approval. “You’ve got a copper’s instinct to go with those fancy magic skills then.”

Endeavour shrugged, awkward under the other man’s attention. Instinct was a human thing. Deduction, logical and reasoned, was more his thing. But he couldn’t help but admit there was an element of intuition to how he saw things. 

This was why he had made that suggestion to join the Guard. Jakes was diligent and knowledgeable as an officer, he was picking up magic even faster than he had expected (someone that had lasted so long without knowledge of it had to be innately strong and controlled), and he had a way of seeing to the heart of matters, even if his ways of doing so could appear cutting at times.

Thursday reappeared at that point and they continued on with the search as if nothing had happened. Once more Endeavour found an excuse to avoid the morgue, and Jakes elected to come with him. He noted the curious look from the Inspector at Jakes’ choice. He would have to speak with him soon about the transfer. Jakes had said he would speak with him, but he could see that the man ( _his father..._ ) had guessed something was going on already and some amount of forewarning might not go amiss.

\--------

They did the rounds of the colleges and various magical and creature experts to get a better idea of who, or what, might be responsible. Apart from rubbing up half of the academics the wrong way, and inciting an unnerving level of curiosity in the rest, they got no results from their little tour.

It was a good distraction at first, but Jakes was looking paler with each dimly lit, dark wood panelled, room they entered. He claimed to be fine, but Endeavour had a suspicion that the morning’s misadventure had taken more out of him that he wanted to admit. This early on in his tutoring that could be quite dangerous. He needed to rest, and then to use his magic again in a safe and controlled environment. He would have to find an excuse for them to slip away to the office when they got back to the station.

In the end it wasn’t necessary to find an excuse. Jakes fell asleep in the car as they set off from the last college. He looked to the sleeping man and a sense of dread crept over him. There was a worrying stillness in the way he slept. Jakes seemed like the kind of man to be always vigilant, even in sleep, so to be so utterly asleep in a strange car suggested he had underestimated the level of drain he had undergone. Endeavour cursed himself. He had been stupid. Too preoccupied with his own problems to pay proper attention when he was dealing with the situation originally. He needed to get Jakes somewhere safe to do a restoring spell. The station was too far. His flat was closer. They would have to go there.

Jakes did not stir when they pulled up at his flat, or when he gently shook his shoulder, thus confirming his fears. Endeavour put a bit of magic behind the gesture and managed to rouse him enough to get him out of the car and half carry him up to the flat. The restorative didn’t take long to prepare, but he kept one nervous eye on Jakes’ half-asleep form in his armchair. He bound the spell to a cup of tea to make it easier to administer. This way he could give the precise amount needed without having to pretend he had healer skills. 

It took a fair amount of prompting but eventually Jakes finished the mug of hot liquid. He was pretty sure it didn’t taste too great. Demons didn’t drink tea, but he had always been fascinated by the customs and rituals that humans built around the beverage, so he had a small stash and occasionally tried a cup. He hadn’t found the right methodology as yet to produce the grateful reaction he had witnessed in humans. Or maybe it wouldn’t work on him as he was only half human. Either way, with a spell bound to it, the drink was unlikely to be all that appetising.

Jakes pulled a face as he roused properly from his stupor, thus confirming his fears.

“What the... what is this?” Jakes glared at the mug as though it had offended him.

“Tea.”

“Look, mate, you seriously need to rethink that answer. Or go on some kind of tea making course. That was… quite awful.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He ducked his head to avoid looking at the appalled reaction to the drink. It made him strangely sad to realise he was so bad at such a fundamental part of human life. “It was probably the restorative spell I bound on that tipped it over.”

“Nah. I could feel that working. No... flavour… there. I mean… no taste to it. I could tell it was your magic alright though. And thank you for that. And sorry again for earlier, since I guess that was what caused this. It was just… _that tea_ … I mean…” Now Jakes looked confused, “how do you even make tea taste like that!”

“Sorry.” Endeavour loitered awkwardly in the middle of the room. He didn’t have guests, so he only had the one armchair. No point spending out on unnecessary items like extra furniture… or decent tea apparently.

Jakes looked around, taking in the neat and orderly flat. Endeavour’s books and records were organised alphabetically and stored on the shelves that lined either side of the fireplace. His telephone and record player were the only other items on view in the room besides a plain rug to take the chill off the floor. His guest’s face was once more impassive, giving nothing away, so his next words were a surprise. 

“Since when did demons listen to opera?”

“What?”

“I’ve never seen so many records. And you’ve got poetry and stuff on those shelves too. Classics, right?”

“I… yes. I like the classics. And opera.”

“You _like_ them?”

“Yes.” He had no idea where this conversation was going.

“Look, I’m going to blame this on over-stretching myself and that godawful tea, so, yeah, apologies to be blunt, but you’re not really a demon are you?”

“I am.” He couldn’t keep the slight frown from his face.

“No, I mean… How can you explain how you are, your reactions and stuff, wanting things, liking things… I’m not making sense am I? OK, seriously, _how_ do you make tea that makes me feel drunk?”

“That’ll be the restorative spell. It can have that effect. I’m not a healer so I can’t avoid side effects”

“And the rest? What are _you_?”

The other man did look quite drunk now that he mentioned it. He was glad they’d had to do the spell here. It wouldn’t do for either Jakes’ current or soon-to-be colleagues to see him like this. Endeavour ignored the direct question and called the office instead to advise he had dropped Jakes home. He didn’t specify whose home, so it wasn’t a lie. It was past the end of the man’s shift anyway so there would be no questions about why he had gone home. Jakes watched him as he made the call with a kind of intense focus he had seen in only a very few drunk humans.

“You’re avoiding the question aren’t you?” Jakes pressed.

“I would rather not answer it, yes.”

“Why?”

It was a good question. Why was he so worried to answer this man truthfully. He had no real reason that he knew of to fear the truth. It was all just years of conditioning courtesy of the Academy. His human half made an impulsive choice to trust Jakes again.

“I’m half human.” They were such simple, plain, words. Yet he could practically feel the weight they lifted from him as they left his lips. 

“Oh. Right. That makes sense.” Jakes frowned again, thinking. “Your father then?”

“Yes.” It was so much easier to tell the truth than to avoid it.

“Why keep it a secret?”

Endeavour had thought about that all too often, but he still didn’t have a completely rational answer.

“I didn’t know until my mother was dying. She tried to explain to me, but she was too confused. In the demon community I don’t know of anyone else at all who is not full demon. It just isn’t done. In the Academy I doubt it would have helped my cause. I would have been judged for my lesser emotional control.”

“Alright. I can see that. But what about _now_. Why not tell people now? You joined the Guard, not the army.”

Endeavour considered before answering. He drew over the chair from the small table he kept in the kitchen. He would rather sit down if they were going to have this kind of conversation. “I suppose… if I told people, there would be an expectation for me to be more human, understand human things more. And that’s the problem. I don’t know how. I was raised exclusively demon. My human half… Well, I’ve never been… able… to be human.” 

“Well, that’s just stupid. It’s not like you need a qualification or anything. You’re just what you are.” Jakes laughed and leaned forwards in the armchair. “Sorry, I… didn’t mean to laugh. I still feel kind of drunk.” He slouched back again. “look, if you’re only half demon then can I just… you know… talk to you normally?”

“You already are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t intend to be. That’s the tea talking… Gods that’s a sentence no one’s ever had to say before.” Jakes actually giggled at that. Endeavour began to wonder whether his restorative spell skills weren’t on the same level as his tea making. 

“I don’t mind you being less formal in the way you speak to me. We are… colleagues after all.” 

“I think you’ve saved my life twice now, right? That makes us friends as well, at least it does in my book.”

“Oh.” Endeavour didn’t know what to do with the avalanche of feelings such an everyday event as having a friend landed on him. He’d never had anyone consider him a friend before. He’d been a loner as a young child, and then in the Academy friendships were not the done thing. He supposed some of his other colleagues might see him as a friend. Maybe Shirley Trewlove? But they had never actually said as much and they certainly never socialised. Was this socialising? He doubted it somehow.

“So call me Peter when we’re not working, eh?”

“I… OK.” It seemed easier to agree than to delve into the why of the situation.

“Good. Right. Now, that tea seems to be wearing off. Shall we maybe go and get properly drunk? With _real_ alcohol.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Don’t argue. We’re going for drinks. I’m going to teach you about human stuff in exchange for you teaching me the magic stuff.”

Endeavour had a bad feeling about how much of his precious control he would be able to maintain when going out for alcoholic drinks with his first ‘friend’, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, he couldn’t deny that part of him very much wanted to go. He’d been demon for as long as he could remember, why not let his human half have the final say for once?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I do so love Endeavour having a real friend. Peter is the best.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit much going on here for one chapter, but I couldn't find a way to split it.

Morning at the station was met by a slightly bleary eyed Peter Jakes, and a frustratingly fresh looking Endeavour Morse. They had spent several hours at the pub, working their way through pints of beer, and talking about everything from the inconsequential, to the very core of what made each of them who they were. 

Peter had been drunk in a way when he’d declared they were friends, but after those hours of honest conversation he genuinely felt that Endeavour was the first true friend he had had since childhood. He didn’t have to hide, or pretend, or hold back with him. The demon ( _half-demon_ ) accepted him for who he was without judgement or pity. 

In his turn, he hoped that he might be able to help Endeavour find some small measure of self-acceptance. From talking with him, it was clear that he had some serious issues in understanding and feeling comfortable with the human parts of his mind. It was ridiculous how many times he had apologised for the tea. Peter resolved to make that his first lesson for the poor man, mainly because of the importance Endeavour seemed to place on it, but also to prevent anyone else suffering the vile mixture he’d been subjected to.

Thursday had given Peter an assessing glance as he got into the car that morning and asked with a raised eyebrow about his evening, but didn’t push him for more than the vague reply he gave, nor condemn him for his slightly hungover state. Endeavour was mostly working in the basement that morning, and he envied him the dark and quiet of that space. It was strange how much he found himself looking forward to his transfer. 

Thankfully the investigation was dragging along slowly. He was in as much of a rush to catch the killer as everyone else, but he definitely appreciated a slow morning in the office rather than rushing about and looking at dead bodies. Whenever he was alone, or certain he wasn’t being watched, he practised some of the small spells that Endeavour had said would help with his control. He pressed typewriter keys, lit his cigarettes, and retrieved reports from other desks with small acts of magic. 

He thought he was being discrete, and that no one would notice. He had forgotten about the Old Man’s instincts. 

It was as he was flipping through the pages of one of the witness reports using a basic movement spell that he felt the Inspector’s hand land on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin with the shock, but managed to keep control over, and end the spell, before spinning round to face his governing officer. He couldn’t read the Old Man’s expression.

“Got something to tell me have you?” Thursday asked him in the dry voice he reserved for suspects.

“I… Sir…” Peter stuttered. He looked around, but they were alone in the office. Everyone else was at lunch. 

“Well then, spit it out, I haven’t got all day.” Thursday didn’t seem angry, but Peter had seen him flip with no warning before, so he took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for the worst before answering.

“I… I have magic, Sir.”

“Yes, I can see that. So, are you human then? And when were you planning on telling me exactly?”

“I am human. Definitely. Just, I have magic. It happens. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, its just that...” 

“That’s OK, lad. I know things weren’t exactly straightforward before the bill. Still, you know you could have trusted me right?” Peter’s throat had gone bone dry, so he just nodded. “We’ll talk about this later, in the meantime, we’ve got another call about a possible forth victim.”

A forth victim was a very bad sign. People would begin to panic soon. It was the worst possible time to drop his other bombshell, and yet…

“Sir?” He called out to Thursday’s retreating back. The Inspector turned around and met his nervous gaze. “There’s… there’s something else I ought to have told you. I’m going to be transferring to the Guard once this case is done.” He said it quickly before he could change his mind. “With your permission of course,” he hastily added so as not to sound impertinent. 

The Inspector looked temporarily lost for words, frozen to the spot where he had turned back, but then he roused himself and fixed a confused smile on to his face.

“Well… yes, of course. It makes sense I suppose. If this is what you want then… yes. Fine.”

“I’ll still be here of course, and it looks like we’ll be working together on cases and such, but the Guard… well, it seems like a really good opportunity at a time like this. I’d be Commander Morse’s second.” He watched the Inspector closely and was gratified to see his smile become a bit less strained.

“As long as you’re happy with it, then I’ll support you all the way. Well, then, congratulations are in order it seems. Well done, and good luck. I can’t say I won’t be sad to see you go. Decent Sergeants like you are hard to come by. And if it doesn’t work out for any reason then I’ll be happy to put in a good word for you here if you want to come back.”

Peter nodded, trying to keep his feelings from his face. Yes, it was exciting that he was going to use magic and work in the Guard, but it was also bloody terrifying. It would be a complete change in his life, and who he was. It meant a lot to him to hear that Thursday thought well of him, and would try to smooth over a return if he needed it. He doubted, with his magic public knowledge, that it would be an easy task, and he was sure Thursday also knew that, so he was doubly grateful to the Old Man for the offer. They gathered their things together and made their way to the new crime scene in amicable silence.

\--------

Fred was glad of his years in the army and the police. They had helped him to perfect his poker face in many situations. He was certain that, had anyone else been watching, they would have seen much more of a reaction than usual when he had discovered his Sergeant using magic.

It made sense of course, the lad had always been very private, secretive even, but it had still been a shock. The bigger shock had been that he was transferring to the Guard. That made sense of the subtle shift in Jakes’ attitude towards Morse. He would be sad to lose him, but as he said, they would no doubt still be working together on occasion. He wouldn’t be losing his diligence to another station at least.

He found himself watching Jakes as he worked, wondering how he had missed what he was up until now. He had prided himself on his judge of character and instinct about what made people tick. It was a definite wake up call that he wasn’t as observant as he prided himself on being.

Their new crime scene and victim fitted the pattern, but this one had potentially lain undisturbed since the day of the bill if the mail was anything to go by. Morse had been out visiting a potential lead when the call had come in, so he had said he would meet them later. 

Despite assurances that after such a long time they would all be safe, no one was rushing to touch the body, except DeBryn, who seemed as un-phased as usual. Fred wondered if he had ever seen the pathologist really react to a dead body before. No, now that he thought of it he knew that the short man did react, but it was more to the story of the person than the state of their physical remains. There was a quiet rage about him when faced with a young person whose life had been cut short, but he remained unblinking in the face of a dismembered leg. DeBryn gave them a time for the autopsy, then went on his way. 

Morse was still not there once they had finished working their way around the crime scene so he called and left a message for him to meet him and Jakes when they went for the pathologist’s report.

\--------

The morgue was the last place Endeavour wanted to go, but he needed to see the body. If only his last meeting hadn’t taken so long. The professor had rambled on for ages, and dredged up umpteen different documents related to magical poisoning, but had ultimately contributed nothing to the case. As a result, he would have to go to the post-mortem if he wanted to check the body over. There wouldn’t be any residual magic after this long, but if this was the first victim potentially then the perpetrator might have made some slip that they had not in the subsequent cases.

He sat in the car for several minutes before entering the building. Meditation and other techniques he had learned in the Academy cleared his mind and put his demon half firmly in control. After the previous evening, where he had been able to just be himself, whatever that was exactly, it was all the harder to clamp down on his feelings. He was feeling that floaty, removed, sensation he had sometimes felt in his teenage years when it all got too much. The rational part of his mind analysed that this was a _bad_ thing, but presented no alternatives as to how to deal with the present situation.

The morgue was cold, clinical, and simultaneously stripped of all feeling, and packed with the ghosts of grief for all the dead that had passed through those halls. He shuddered involuntarily as he made his way down the corridor, and through the double doors into the autopsy room. Usually he sent one of the team to deal with anything they had to here. Mairi was particularly adept at getting in unnoticed during the night shift. This was the first time since his early training that he had had to set foot in the place.

The Inspector greeted him as he entered the room. His eyes fixed on him intently. For a moment he wondered if somehow he knew his secrets, then Peter nodded to him and tilted his head towards Thursday in a meaningful gesture he took to signify that they had spoken about his magic and the transfer. He nodded back his understanding. That was one less thing he had to worry about at least.

Max DeBryn, the pathologist, introduced himself. There was something about his demeanour that told Endeavour that the man would fit in very well with the section of demon society that shunned the Academy. He had a dispassionate air about him, but Endeavour could sense that beneath that veneer he was empathetic without letting it affect his consummate efficiency. He bowed deeply in respect. DeBryn raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t pointlessly comment on his demon nature as so many people did.

He let his eyes shift to full black, and tried to listen to what the pathologist was saying as he catalogued the details of the corpse without actually looking at it. He was doing well, letting the details wash over him and deep into his mind, until the first incision. The sluggish flow of blood overwhelmed his defences. His heightened senses allowed him to hear the way it flowed, smell that metallic tang that was tainted with the poison, and see the shimmering colours that corrupted the dark scarlet. 

Endeavour breathed out slowly and tried to regain his control. He might have won out, but then DeBryn peeled back the incision and all the colour drained from the room and his body rebelled.

\--------

Fred had been so focussed on the autopsy that he had mostly forgotten about Morse stood next to him. Until the lad swayed, and then collapsed, bonelessly. His reflexes kicked in and he caught him, breaking the fall, before he could hit the floor.

“Morse?” There was no reply. He eased the demon’s unconscious form down gently until he could lay him on the ground. He wanted to reassure him, tell him he would be fine, but demons didn’t just faint at the sight of blood, especially not those that had been through the Academy. So what had just happened?

Jakes was by his side a moment later, a hesitant hand reached out to the still form of the Commander. DeBryn was with them a few seconds later, once he had changed the sterile gloves he had been wearing for a new pair.

“Morse?” The pathologist called, checking his pulse. “Just fainted it looks like. Though that does seem unlikely.”

“I could… I could check if you like?” Jakes offered. Fred presumed he meant using magic. Debryn looked between them quizically.

“Sergeant Jakes has magic,” he explained to the pathologist. “Go on then. Show us what you’ve got.” He said to Jakes with an encouraging smile.

Jakes knelt down beside them and gently placed a hand on Morse’s unconscious body. Concentration lined his brow. After a moment he looked up and nodded.

“Just a faint.” He announced. 

Fred let out a relieved sigh. It was good to know the lad would be alright, but it did raise a whole raft of other questions. He had the case to focus on for now, but once they had this cracked he was going to have to put some serious thought into the puzzle that was Commander Endeavour Morse. Demons did not faint at the sight of blood. Demons did not react in the ways this lad sometimes did. Demons did not come out of the Academy as accomplished as Morse’s record indicated (he had read up on him after the kitsune had reacted to his name so intensely) only to join the Guard. So who and what was Endeavour Morse exactly?

\--------

Endeavour came to on a cold, tiled, floor. It took a moment for his senses to come back to him. _What had happened? Where was he?_ There were three faces looking down at him. For one heart-stopping moment he was thrown back to his days at the Academy. _Had he failed a test?_

“Morse?” The oldest of the faces called his attention. “You’re alright. Just fainted is all.”

 _Fainted?! What on earth could have lead to..._ The memories came rushing back. He was at an autopsy. There had been a body. He had fainted. Normally he would feel quite ill but just look a bit uncomfortable, pretty odd for a demon, but not so terrible. But he had been bottling other things up, and so this must have been one thing too many. His body had found a pressure valve.

They had all seen. Peter knew why of course, they had spoken about it a little in the pub the night before, but it would be utterly bizarre for him to have passed out because of a little blood as far as the other two were concerned. _Bugger._

“Ah, sorry.” He wanted to excuse it somehow, but there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t be an outright lie. The only silver lining in fainting was that he hadn’t lost his temper which was the usual result of suppressing his feelings too much. Now that would have been bad.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have made you try whiskey last night. Probably no good for demons.” Peter lied for him. His new friend was already proving himself loyal.

“Strong alcohol is not good for any body.” He replied, then began the slow process of getting up. 

Peter deliberately stepped back to give him room. Thursday went to offer his hand, then rethought the action. The pathologist, DeBryn, did offer his hand.

“You’re going to need a hand up. Nothing informal. Just thinking of the practicalities.”

It was a good enough reason, so he accepted the contact. He was glad of it when he found himself to still be quite light headed. He might have pitched back over if it weren’t for the unexpectedly strong grip of the pathologist’s hand. He shot the man a wary glance. Was he something other than human? There was no trace of magic in their touch, but there was _something._

It would have to be a puzzle for another day. He needed to get home and rest. Barring the two evenings out, he had now been working for almost four days solid. If nothing else, he needed to sleep soon. He was pushing it on how long he could stay awake now.

“You’ll have to excuse me, I can only stay awake for so many days. I will need to return home now and rest. I will be available from later tonight in the Guard offices. Doctor, would it be acceptable for my colleague, Lieutenant Mairi, to come and assess the body on my behalf?”

“Of course.”

“She won’t be able to visit until it is full night, but I can assure you, she is quite used to coming and going without any need for you to change your usual routine.”

“This would be the baobhan sith that frequents the less human, or less humanly killed, of the bodies that cross this threshold then?” DeBryn asked with a wry smile.

“You know about her?” He couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.

“My grandfather was a shade. No magic passed down to me, but I do have a knack for sensing creatures.”

“A shade? But-”

DeBryn cut him off. “We can discuss my unlikely nature some other time, perhaps?” 

Morse reluctantly nodded his agreement. Unlikely wasn’t quite the word for it. Shades were spirit form creatures. Most were benign, and they lived for centuries. They rarely had enough strength to take on a corporeal form. Usually the few who did so were malevolent. The idea of one having produced a child with a human? It wasn’t unlikely; it was inconceivable.

Endeavour bade the three men farewell and tried to look assured as he made his way out of the room. He had known that bill and merging with the police would change things for creatures, but he would never have foreseen how much it would change things for him personally.

Sleep was elusive that evening, his mind constantly turning to all the things he didn’t know how to deal with. He had found his father, he had a human friend, he had told someone about being half-human, he had fainted, there was a serial killer to be found. Round and around these thoughts spun, but he found himself unable to properly focus on any single one alone. Eventually, as the light faded, sleep finally claimed him.

\--------

Peter watched Endeavour’s retreating figure. When he was younger he would never have imagined this future for himself. He couldn’t have imagined joining the police, let alone the Guard. And making friends with a demon? Well, that part was more likely on his part maybe, but not on the side of the demon. Then to find that the demon was half-human, made it even stranger. On top of all this there was his magic of course.

He was already unsettled enough by all these revelations without Endeavour throwing him off balance by passing out. He had tried to cover for him, but it was evident from the look on Thursday’s face that he knew something was not quite normal about the Commander. Doctor DeBryn didn’t appear interested in Endeavour in the same way, the two of them had only just met after all, but something told him that it was actually because he knew more than he was telling.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and today he was able to head straight home rather than down to the Guard’s offices for training since Endeavour was sleeping. It was good to get some decent rest. Thursday had warned the papers were running the story in the morning, he couldn’t hold them back any longer, and it wasn’t going to look good. 

He got started on some reading about basic magic that Endeavour had set for him. It was like being back at school and having homework. The thought of school sent a shiver down his spine. He did not want to start thinking about that. He thought of all the countless other boys that had passed through that institution before and after him. He could be passing them in the street and never know it. 

Something about that thought struck a chord with him. What if there was a connection between all the victims, and they just didn’t know it because the victims themselves didn’t. Until now, they had been looking for a solid link, like if they had worked together, or gone to school together, but their lives were quite disparate up to a point. The point they all converged was their gender, age bracket, and where they lived.

None of that seemed like a fair reason to kill them, so what else did they have in common that they might not know about? 

Endeavour was focussing on human magic users in the Guard’s side of the investigation, but something was making Peter lean more towards it being a creature. He thought for a while as he tried to read. Eventually he settled on it being the effort that the perpetrator would have had to go to making each crime go undetected, and in some cases locking the victims in from the inside, contrasted with the fact that they had made no effort to hide the bodies, frame anyone else, or conceal their methods. There was something very much not human about it all.

He fell asleep over his reading and woke up at 3am. There was a tension in the air he couldn’t explain. It was like a guitar wire strung along his spine. He gave up on sleep and headed into the office early to go over the reports again and see if anything struck him. Maybe Endeavour would be in and he could do some more training.

\--------

Endeavour eventually made it into the Guard offices at 1am. He felt guilty for being late for the night shift again as he usually tried to be there for the whole of that. His working hours were often whenever he was awake, which meant he would sometimes work the majority of four full days and nights, taking breaks only to wash and eat.

Shirley often badgered him to do something other than work, but it had little effect. What else could he do? Sitting at home alone reading, listening to music, or doing crossword puzzles. It didn’t fill the need in him for company. He’d thought about joining a choir, but who would accept a demon?

The office was quiet. Mairi was at the morgue, Elliott wasn’t in as it was the full moon the next night, Shirley had done her evening shift and left already. That only left Alder manning the office. 

Alder stood and bowed slowly when Endeavour entered the room. It was contrary to the hart’s nature to be subordinate, but he also believed strongly in hierarchy. Endeavour was aware he needed to show Alder his strength and power on a regular basis to maintain his respect. He bowed in return and with a flick of his wrist used a small amount of magic to turn on the rest of the lights in the room and set the various desks and boards in order. He could have done it all manually and saved his power, but it served the purpose of letting Alder see his innate strength for all that he was decades younger than the hart.

“Anything in this evening, Ensign?” He was abrupt in his greeting. With anyone else he would have apologised for being late.

“Theft up Jericho, Sir. Some wolfsbane lifted from a banshee’s ‘erb garden. Lieutenant Mairi offered to check it out on ‘er way back.” Alder replied in his low, West Country, burr.

“Aconitum? What were they growing that for?” Although a banshee was one of the few that could handle the plant safely, to grow such a deadly plant in a herb garden was an odd choice.

“She supplies the ‘erbalists on the Woodstock Road. I understand tha’s where Ensign Matthews purchases ‘is tonic from, along with most o’the lycans in the district.”

This was bad news. The tonic that helped Elliott and other lycans remain in control, and in human form if they chose, needed to be made freshly on the full moon and a day either side of it.

“How much was taken?”

“All of it.”

He put his coat back on quickly and retrieved Elliott’s file from the cabinet in his office. The full moon was tomorrow. Hopefully the lycans in Oxford had tonight’s dose, but what of the next two days? Tomorrow would be the worst. The last thing they needed right now was a district of out of control werewolves. 

“I’ll head over to check on Ensign Matthews. Stay on the poisoning cases unless anything else comes in. If Lieutenant Mairi arrives back in the meantime please could you ask her to contact me. If you need assistance you know how to reach me.”

“Yessir,” Alder inclined his head and then turned back to his work.

\--------

Endeavour was not in the Guard offices when Peter arrived. The only other officer there was the hart, Ensign Alder Blake. He looked up, surprised to see Peter in, but declined to greet him. He remembered from his reading that this was almost certainly an act of defiance. He wasn’t in the job as yet, but he decided to tackle the issue head on.

“Good morning, Ensign.” He addressed the hart pointedly. “I need to speak with the Commander. Please could you advise where exactly I might locate him?” It wasn’t urgent, but he wasn’t going to let Blake know that.

The hart considered him for a long moment, but eventually answered him. “Gone out t’Jericho. On a theft case. Yer best waiting ‘til the Commander gets back at this time o’night.” 

It was a fair point; he didn’t have a car after all and it was a long enough way over to Jericho. Endeavour would likely be back before he got over there. He nodded his agreement.

“Alright. Well, I’ll be working on the poisoning case in the Commander’s office if you need anything.”

Alder considered him and then nodded. Peter wasn’t certain, but he thought that he seemed more relaxed than he had been when they had first spoken. Maybe he was beginning to accept him.

The hours passed by quickly. Peter hadn’t really looked through all the data the Guard had collated, just whatever Trewlove or Endeavour felt was relevant or potentially significant. The sheer scale of the research they had accomplished in the last few days was impressive. He remained engrossed in the notes until just after 6am, when Alder knocked on the door to the office. He looked up, surprised to see the hart looking almost worried.

“They’re not back,” was all he said, staring at Peter with an intensity that was somewhat unsettling.

“Who isn’t back?” He was confused to be thrown into what felt like the middle of a conversation.

“The Commander an’ Lieutenant Mairi. They should be back by now.”

“Alright, lets get onto it. Do you know where they both went, and do you have a way to make contact?” Peter tried to exude a confidence he didn’t feel yet in a role he hadn’t even officially taken on.

“Mairi went t’the morgue, then some banshee’s place out in Jericho. If she’s not outta the light by now she won’t be corporeal again until this evenin’. The Commander went to check on Matthews. I tried contactin’ ‘im but ‘e ain’t respondin’ to it.”

This was not good news. Peter considered what to do next. He checked the clock. He could get the car to pick up the Inspector and then check out the locations in Jericho, provided he was alright with the detour.

“Get me the addresses and I’ll go check them out now. See what we can find.”

Alder moved faster than he had ever seen him. Normally the hart moved with a disinterested sort of lethargy that he was sure was more about asserting his control than actual fatigue. Within minutes he had the relevant information and was in the car, on his way to pick up the Inspector.

It was early when he reached the Thursday’s house, but luckily the Old Man was already set to leave. He agreed to the detour via Jericho once Peter had explained the situation.

The banshee’s address was closest so they stopped there first. She clearly recalled Mairi’s visit, as she had been put out at being woken at such an early hour by a baobhan sith in her house. 

“Don’t they ever knock?!” She complained. “Yes, she was here. Did a lot of faffing about with magic in the garden. I told her she’d not find nothing. I can check as good as her. She was so busy digging holes that she was still there when I got up. Stupid woman. Vanished with the sun. I’d got nowhere to stash her that the light wouldn’t get.”

Well that answered that at least. Mairi would be back again after dusk, but he had a feeling that Endeavour wouldn’t be best pleased to be without her today. They set off for the lycan’s house. 

When they reached Matthews’ house it was all in darkness. There was no sign that anyone was there. Still, they knocked on the door and waited, nervous. It wasn’t the best time to be visiting a lycan. They were about to leave again when the door was pulled open, revealing a blood stained Endeavour Morse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So I'm going to admit here and now I don't loop back and answer the Max DeBryn questions this chapter raises. I never intended to raise them in the first place. But Max is such a Good character he just sort of became something more.
> 
> Oh, and sorry for that sort of cliffhanger...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving you on that inadvertent cliffhanger. Now it is all kicking off in this chapter. We finally get somewhere.

Things had gone about as badly as they could when Endeavour visited Elliott Matthews. It turned out that although he had been able to get that night’s portion of the potion, despite the theft of the wolfsbane, it hadn’t worked properly for some reason. 

Endeavour had managed to barricade the confused, but not aggressive, wolf in his bedroom and then proceeded to call or visit the rest of the registered lycans in Oxford. They were all experiencing the same problems. All but two had shifted to wolf form, and most of those had good control but were disorientated so he had to lock each one in somewhere safe for fear of how the potion would fare as the night wore on. 

Come morning, he retraced his steps and let each one out with a warning about the wolfsbane and their need to find a lock-up for the next two nights if a new supply wasn’t found in time. 

Finally he came back to Elliott. Having found all the previous wolves back in human form he made a critical mistake in assuming that Elliott would also have shifted. It wasn’t such a foolish error; lycans didn’t remain as wolves involuntarily in the daylight. So it was a shock when what met him was a large, confused, wolf who had been locked into a small room all night. He was taken by surprise when he opened the door and was bowled over by his colleague. 

Endeavour’s reflexes and strength were far beyond any human’s and he’d had years of specialist training to refine them. All that was of no use while his mind was otherwise occupied trying to solve the puzzle of who had done this to the lycans and why. Elliott knocked him over and got one clean swipe in on his arm before Endeavour rallied and got him under control and locked back in the bedroom. 

He was sitting on the stairs, staring at the wall to avoid looking at his bleeding arm, and trying to think of a logical course of action, when there was a knock at the door. It couldn’t be Mairi now the sun was up. He’d tried summoning her so she could help him with the visits to the lycans, but she hadn’t responded. Alder wouldn’t leave the office without direct orders. So who was it? 

It took longer than it should to summon the energy to get up. He would need to get to a healer soon. The idea that lycanthropy was transmitted through scratches or bites was a myth, werewolves were born not made, but on the average human they would act like an anaesthetic and knock them out. Luckily this didn’t happen to a demon, so he should be fine, but they were bad cuts nonetheless. 

When Endeavour stood up he swayed into the wall. He’d never been injured by a lycan before. Maybe his human half did play a role in his physiology. He made his way carefully down the stairs and opened the door to find Peter Jakes and Fred Thursday. He wanted to bow, it was the correct greeting, but he had a feeling that if he did that he wouldn’t be able to stop the motion before his face hit the floor.

“Good morning Inspector, Sergeant.”

“What on earth happened to you?” Thursday gaped at him, hand automatically reaching out to steady him as he swayed again. Endeavour dodged the touch and leant on the doorframe.

“We had an issue with the lycans’ potion. I dealt with it, but Ensign Matthews is still a wolf for some reason. I need to get back to the office and get Lieutenant Trewlove over here to sort it out.”

“You need to get to a hospital.” Peter said with a raised eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“The anaesthetic effect of a lycan attack is not efficient on a demon.” He explained, even as he felt the pull of sleep at the corners of his mind.

Peter snorted. “I think you might be wrong about that. Come on. We’ll get you sorted.”

“I’ll be fine.” He went to stand to leave and his knees went out from under him. The Inspector caught him. This was getting to be a habit.

“Hospital. Now.” Thursday said in a tone that allowed for no arguments. “I’ll drive you there, Sergeant Jakes can go back to the nick and get Trewlove.”

He wanted to argue, but it would be pointless and illogical. He clearly did need to see a healer sooner rather than later, and if he couldn’t stand then he couldn’t drive. He nodded his agreement and let his father help him to his car without any further discussion.

\--------

Fred looked at the slumped form of Commander Morse. He was still awake as they drove to the hospital but his face was lined with the strain of the pain and fatigue. The lad really did need someone to take care of him.

“Who should I call for you when we get you to the hospital?” He asked.

“I’ll be fine after seeing a healer. I won’t need you to call anyone.” Morse declined his offer and looked out of the window.

“Still, those are nasty cuts, you’re going to need some help.” Silence met this. Clearly Morse knew he would need some support and was refusing to answer him for some reason. Some odd instinct made him push on with the questions, even though that was not good etiquette with a demon. “So what about the relatives you said were local? I know you said you’re not acquainted but maybe you could connect with them?”

“It isn’t that simple,” Morse muttered to the window.

“Why?”

Morse turned his head and watched him as they drove. After a long pause he eventually replied. “Because the only relative I have is my father, and I suspect he doesn’t even know I exist.”

The revelation was a shock to Fred. He knew Morse had said he hadn’t known his father but he had assumed that he had died. Demons formed such strong family units. Their loyalty was well known. For a demon to have conceived a child and then the mother to raise them alone while the father lived? It was a bizarre idea. 

“Hows that then?” He couldn’t resist the urge to press this sudden unexpected opening into the life of the lad.

Again Morse seemed to consider whether to ignore the question before finally answering. “I don’t know the full story. My mother died before she could fully explain what happened.”

“But you know who he is?”

“Yes.” Morse’s expression was as expressive as he had ever seen it, but he couldn’t say what it was that he was feeling. He looked almost human in that moment. 

The hospital was now in sight. Fred decided to make one last effort to get to the bottom of this mystery. “Then why not contact him? I’m sure he would be glad to know you.”

“If you had a child you didn’t know about who was now grown up, would you want them to suddenly contact you like that?”

“I…” He hesitated. He wanted to answer as truthfully as possible. There was no sense sending Morse out looking based on his blind optimism alone. But when it came down to it, if it was him, he had only one answer to the question. “I suppose it would be a shock, but I’d want to know all the same.”

“What if that child was a creature?” Now that was a weird question. He couldn’t fathom why Morse was asking that. His father must be a demon, so a demon child wasn’t exactly unexpected.

“Well, that’s not exactly likely for me. I only stepped out with a couple of girls before Win and they were human. So, its only a theoretical answer, but I don’t see it would make a difference to me.”

Fred drove into the car park and quickly found a space to pull into. Morse remained silent the whole time. Then, as he turned off the engine, he suddenly spoke again.

“What if it was me? What if I were your child?” 

The early morning light caught on Morse’s features as he stared down at his hands that were laid one atop the other in his lap. Something about the gesture and they way he looked then… It reminded him of someone. A girl. From so long ago. She’d been there one day, filling his heart, then gone without a trace the next. What if…? But her name had been Joyce. No. It couldn’t be.

Then Endeavour Morse looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and he knew. 

The next words out of Morse’s mouth were not what he was expecting. The emotionless mask slid back into place. “Take the car. You’ll need it to get back to the station. I’ll go in and see a healer then make my way back.”

“Morse-” Morse was getting out of the car even as he spoke. Fred hurried to follow him out. “Morse, wait!” The drowsiness that had afflicted the demon before seemed to have passed now as he strode across the car park much faster than he could keep up with. “Morse! You can’t just say something like that and then run off. We need to talk! Endeavour!”

Finally Morse stopped. He turned back to face Fred. His posture was precise and professional. Nothing in his face would signal that he had any emotions. This was the cold, ruthless, efficiency he knew so well from the demons in the army. It didn’t suit Morse at all.

“What is there to talk about?”

“You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and then walk away like nothing happened.”

“It was a hypothetical question.”

“So if I ask you, you won’t say that your mother was called Joyce?”

“Her name was Constance.” Morse stated evenly. For a moment Fred wondered if he had got this all wrong, but then he added, “Joyce was her given name for legal reasons only until she was granted her virtue name.”

“What was your given name, before you were Endeavour?” He didn’t know why he asked that, there were far more important questions.

“Frederick.”

She’d given their son his name. He’d all but forgotten the girl, and yet they had been linked all these years. He had another son. He’d had another son for so long. That son was now standing in front of him, fully grown, and looking about as disinterested in their conversation as he might if they were discussing the weather.

“How long have you known?” This boy, _his boy,_ had gone to that awful Academy rather than being raised by a loving family. He needed to know that wasn’t something that could have been avoided.

“I had suspected since we met. I confirmed my suspicions in the afternoon of three days previous.”

“The afternoon before you came to dinner?”

“Yes.”

“And you never said anything? You never...” Fred could feel his temper rising. “How could you sit among my family like that and never say a word!” He hadn’t meant to shout. He made to apologise but Morse cut him off.

“Why should I? I wasn’t wanted then, and I’m clearly not wanted now!” Morse, _his son_ , shouted back at him, his face a mirror for Fred’s own temper. “Fear not, I’ll not intrude on _your_ family ever again.” And with that he turned and marched across the carpark at a pace he couldn’t hope to match.

Fred remained where he was, frozen to the spot. All the things he should have said rushing through his mind. He should have told him that he _was_ wanted, and that he would have been wanted if he’d only known. He should have said that his family was as much Morse’s as his own now, if he wanted that. He should have asked what he wanted. He should have explained that he was only angry because his son had sat there among his own family and told them that the Academy was ‘sufficient’. It wasn’t. It never would be. He should have had a chance to offer his son a family when it mattered most.

He watched Endeavour disappear into the hospital and then turned back to the car. He wanted to follow him in but he didn’t know how he would be received. His son clearly had his temper under all that control. His son was half human. No wonder he didn’t quite fit the mould

All the way back to the station he had only one endless chorus of thoughts in his mind. _He had another son. Endeavour Morse was his son. He had failed his son without even knowing it._

\--------

It didn’t take long for Endeavour to be seen by a healer. After his outburst he found himself not in the mood to deal with the way the young woman fawned over him. He’d tried to keep a low profile, but despite his efforts he was a well known name in the creature community thanks to his position in the Guard and work on the bill. He could tell from her startled expression that he was far colder and short with her than necessary. He made sure to say thank you properly when she was finished, but she still eyed him warily.

The cuts were easily sealed and he knew he would heal quickly but they ached badly and he needed a sling, so his arm was a lot less mobile than he’d like. He was in a hurry to get back to work. Shirley would hopefully have solved Matthews’ problem. Her particular type of magic was well attuned to helping. If not, then he would need to call on someone more expert in lycans. There was a professor at Balliol that specialised that they could ask.

Beyond that, there was the poisoning case. That had hit the headlines of the morning papers and he knew the community would be getting worried about possible retaliation from the humans who had only just begun to really learn how widespread they were.

He had to get his emotions regulated again. There was no way he would be able to get through the day like this. He hadn’t wanted to tell the Inspector that they were father and son. He hadn’t actually even said it, but his need to know what he would have done if he had known of his existence had got the better of him. He suspected the lycan sedative had made him more susceptible to his feelings than he usually would have been. 

Once he was discharged he got a taxi from the hospital to the station, using the time of the journey to use every technique at his disposal to put his demon half firmly in control. Shirley gave him a look as he came in and instantly made him a cup of tea. He eyed the perfect brew enviously. She was depressingly good at tea.

“I got Matthews sorted.” She said without him having to ask. “He’s going to have stay holed up for now though. I put in a few calls when I got back and we’ve got people working to see if we can get a new potion brewed up in time for today or tomorrow. Alder stayed on until I got back but he’s had to go rest now. Mairi unfortunately won’t be with us until morning.” She didn’t have to explain why. If Shirley didn’t say it was for a bad reason then he knew that the baobhan sith had lost track of the sunrise yet again. No amount of telling her would get Mairi to wear a watch, or look up the time of sunrise, and even when she did she forgot to look at the clock.

He resisted the urge to sigh. Shirley would only be able to stay until early afternoon. That would just leave him between then and nightfall. “Anything new on the poisonings?”

“No, but we’ve had a fair few worried calls, and Jakes was working on the files before dawn this morning.”

“Before dawn?” That was unexpected. Surely the man needed sleep. Still, it was a good sign of his dedication given he wasn’t even officially on their team yet.

“Got in sometime in the early hours. Alder sent him your way when you didn’t show.” Shirley said with a smile.

Now that was an even bigger surprise. “Alder voluntarily went to him?”

“I don’t know what magic Jakes worked but he seems to have won Alder’s respect despite his being human.”

Peter continued to prove himself the right man for the job. He was glad he had taken the risk. At least there was some positive news to the day. 

Endeavour left Shirley to the lycans case and then got back to the poisonings. He had to go up to CID several times. Each time Thursday tried to corner him, and he managed to slip away. Peter gave them both a considering look. He had a feeling he was going to have to explain to him. He actually kind of wanted to. It would be a load off his chest to share the secret. Maybe talking about it as humans liked to do would help him work out how felt and what he wanted to do.

Thursday eventually resorted to coming down to the Guard’s basement to try and talk to him. He heard the footsteps and hid in the decontamination room. His father checked the kitchen but not the decontamination unit then waited for a few minutes, but eventually he gave up. Endeavour felt utterly ashamed at his reaction. He was a grown demon hiding from his father. 

He set a small spell to let him know when Thursday had left the building so he could continue to avoid crossing paths until he had decided if he wanted to talk with him. When his father did eventually go home he felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment. He pushed those feelings away and carried on desperately trying to solve the mystery of the poison.

\--------

The family home looked different that evening as Fred looked up at it. It seemed smaller somehow, despite how spacious it had always felt since they moved there from London. He thought of Endeavour and the way he seemed to simultaneously shy away from attention and yet fill up a room with his presence. It was at odds with the warm and predictable homeliness of their house.

Fred locked the car door and made his way slowly up the garden path. He had taken the car to save Peter having to come pick him up if there were any developments. His instincts told him something was going to break on this case soon.

The evening passed much as any other, but Win kept shooting him looks. Clearly he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his inner turmoil. He just kept coming back to that family dinner; how Endeavour, his son, had looked so stiff and uncomfortable, how he didn’t know the real value of homely food and friendly company. Even the way he had flinched when Win almost touched him. 

The lad seemed completely unfamiliar with the love of a family. He had failed him without ever knowing it. Failed a son he didn’t know he had.

Once Joan and Sam had gone to bed, Win brought him a drink and waited for him to talk. He wanted to go to bed, needed the sleep, but also owed it to his wife to explain.

“You remember I told you about a girl I was seeing before you? The one that disappeared.” He began.

“Joyce, wasn’t that her name?” Trust Win to remember.

“Yes. We were meant to meet one evening and she didn’t show. I went looking but it was like she didn’t exist. I realised I didn’t even know her family name.”

“Did you find out something happened to her?” There was compassion in Win’s expression. He felt a surge of love for her caring nature. How she could feel so worried for an ex-girlfriend of his from years back was beyond him.

“No. Well, yes, actually. She passed away some time ago. But that’s not what… what I was…” He stuttered to a halt, uncertain how to explain. He decided to just come out with it directly. “She had a son. _We_ had a son. I never knew until today.”

“Oh, Fred!” Win took his hand. He wondered how he had ever worried about telling her. She had the biggest heart of anyone he knew. 

“He told me today. Or I sort of found out. Well, anyway, I didn’t know.” He hesitated again. “It’s Morse. The demon lad that came by for tea the other night.”

Now Win finally looked surprised. “What? But…” She was temporarily lost for words. “I suppose he does look like you though.”

Now it was Fred’s turn to be surprised. “You think he looks like me?”

“Of course he does, he’s got your hair. From when you were younger of course. I even thought that when he was over.” She smiled sadly at him then. “That poor boy. He’s been alone all this time when he could have been with his family.” 

Fred wondered how many people could say that if they were to go home to their wives and tell them they had a child from a previous relationship their wife would not only be happy, but have practically adopted the child within a minute of knowing. He thought back to the dinner. No, she’d already decided to take him under her wing. The son thing just gave her more licence not to let him argue about it. 

He smiled back at the love of his life. “We’ll look after him now. If he’ll have us of course.”

“Of course he will! You get him round here tomorrow. We’ll have dinner and a good proper chat.”

“We’re working a case right now, love, and he might not want to.”

“Nonsense. The boy needs his family, and we’re it.” With that, Win got up and went to the kitchen. He followed in her wake, helpless against her ruthless need to nurture her family. 

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure we’ve got enough bread for Endeavour’s sandwiches tomorrow.”

Fred wondered if his new found son was prepared for what he had unwittingly set upon himself.

\--------

Peter knew there was something troubling Endeavour as they worked that evening. He was cold in a worryingly disconnected way. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but didn’t want to push their new found friendship too hard.

Every time he changed his mind and decided he would ask there was an interruption. First it was Alder arriving and asking for his orders, then Trewlove, then a phone call letting them know an alternative herbalist had managed to get a new potion brewed and delivered to most of the lycans in the region. Finally, as he opened his mouth to form the question, Mairi appeared in the middle of the office. 

“You’re late.” Was Endeavour’s only comment to the woman now lounging on his desk.

“Well, that isn’t my fault now is it. It took you this long to summon me.” Mairi picked up a book they had been working from and looked between Peter and Endeavour suspiciously.

“I did try earlier.” Endeavour said pointedly.

“I had some things to do.” Mairi scowled.

“Mairi...” There was warning in Endeavour’s tone. 

Peter took the book back off the woman and tried not to feel caught in the middle.

“Fine.” Mairi rolled her eyes and began pacing the small office “I wanted to check that body again. Thought there might be some link between this theft and the poison.”

“And was there?”

“No.”

“Do you have anything you can tell me about the body?”

“No. What’s wrong with your arm?” It was a blatant attempt at diversion from the line of enquiry.

“I sometimes wonder...” Endeavour sighed.

“You keep me on because I’m useful and you know it.” Mairi began to head for the door.

“Mairi. Remember what we discussed before about _not_ appearing in my office?”

Mairi looked like she might argue but eventually nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’ll try my best.” Then she flounced out of the small room without waiting to hear her orders.

Endeavour sighed and rubbed at his forehead with his good hand.

“She’s quite a handful.” Peter commented as gently as he could.

“Yes. But she is right. She’s useful. And quite the genius sometimes. When she wants to be.”

“So, you going to tell me what’s up with you?” It seemed as good a time as any to ask given all the other interruptions. Plus he’d need to go home soon. The lack of sleep from the previous night was catching up to him.

“I recently found my father, not that I was looking, and today I told him. Sort of.” Endeavour replied. 

He would never have guessed it would be something as big as this. “Wow… that’s pretty intense,” he offered. Then he frowned as he thought over the day. Endeavour had been down in the Guard mostly, but as far as he knew he hadn’t left the building due to the shortage of staff. Then there had been the way the Inspector had been acting… Surely not...

Endeavour evidently read his expression clearly and confirmed his suspicion. “It’s Inspector Thursday.”

Peter cleared his throat. A tiny part of him was jealous. He set that aside. “You could do much worse you know. They’re good people, the Thursdays.”

Endeavour just shrugged. Peter tried to think of what to say. His mind was a blank. Every time he thought Endeavour couldn’t surprise him any more, he went and did it again. He tried to imagine how the Old Man would have reacted to such a revelation, but failed. It would be like Mairi just appearing in the room. One minute you’re minding your own business, the next you’ve got a son. 

Something about that train of thought reminded him of his musings of the previous evening about the amount of effort required to cover up the poisoner’s presence, yet lack of effort in covering up the poisoning itself.

“What if they were never there?” He muttered, lost in his thoughts.

“What?” Endeavour’s confused query brought him back into the moment.

“Sorry, I got distracted thinking about the case.” 

“Alright, tell me your thoughts.” Endeavour was back to pure professional efficiency, no trace of the conflict he had worn before. 

Peter regretted his distraction. Clearly there was so much more to talk about in such a complex situation. He would have to try again the next day.

“I was thinking about how the poisoner covers up their presence but not the poison. Lots of effort to re-lock doors from the inside and such, but to just leave the bodies with the poison – it doesn’t make sense. So what if they were never in those flats. What if they somehow poisoned them from the outside? Then the only effort they’d need to make would be the act of poisoning itself.”

Endeavour looked like he’d been struck by lightning. “Of course. How could I have been so stupid!”

“Is it possible then? Poisoning them from outside?”

“Yes, but only for one creature that I know of, and I thought they were legendary only. I should have thought of it before.” Endeavour strode over to his office door and out into the main room. Mairi and Alder both looked up immediately. “Sergeant Jakes might have a lead for us,” he announced. “Have either of you ever encountered evidence that lavellans could be real?”

“Never ‘eard of ‘em, Sir.” Alder replied with a frown.

“You aren’t serious are you?” Mairi leaned back and tilted her head thoughtfully. “There were rumours when I was growing up, but I never saw any hard evidence and I’ve heard nothing of them for decades.”

“What else could poison someone at such a distance? There has never been a crime scene that none of us could find traces at - so, by logic, if we cannot find traces then there are none. The perpetrator was not in these residences.”

Mairi gave a long, slow, whistle. “A _lavellan_! Now that would be something.”

“Do you know where we might begin looking, if you recall the rumours you heard?” 

“Water. They’re said to be water dwellers. Deep rivers mainly.”

“Alright, you and Alder check the location of the nearest rivers to each crime scene, then you and I can go and check them out.” The pair sprang into action. Endeavour turned back to him. “You can head home now, Peter. I expect I’ll be busy the rest of the night with this. That was an excellent thought back there. This could be what we need to finally catch them.”

Peter tried to hide his pleasure at the praise. “I could stay and help?” He offered, not sure if he wanted the offer to be taken up. He wanted to be a part of this, but he also needed sleep.

“Thank you, but don’t worry, if they do exist then we’ll likely be all night trying to track them down. I’d appreciate your input in the morning though.”

“And the Inspector?” Peter asked, uncertain if Endeavour would want to be working so closely with his new found father so soon. There was so much more to discuss there, but it would have to wait.

“It would be... logical for him to have some input as this is a shared case after all. Yes.”

Peter bade the Guard team, or his team as he was beginning to think of them now, a good night and good luck, then made his way home for a much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still having real trouble wrapping this up. I have the end plotted now but brain fog is making progress getting that on the page slower than usual for me. Please bear with me if there's a bit of a wait. I promise I would never leave anything unfinished.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in updating. I know it hasn't been so long really but it is probably the longest I've got stuck on something for ages. In the end the scene that was fighting me just flowed out no problem but I started and stopped it so many times before that I was beginning to worry.
> 
> I've added a chapter because I couldn't round this off nicely without it getting too long for my tastes. The next chapter will definitely be the last though I promise and should be much quicker now I've got past the bit I was stuck on.

They worked through the night, eventually narrowing down the possible locations a lavellan could be living to two. Endeavour also sent out requests to any academic that might be able to tell them something more about the elusive creature. 

He had searched every volume and text he could think of and they held little of use. All they could say was that they were known for their poisonous abilities, with rumour claiming they could kill from over a hundred feet away from their target, and that they were purported to live in deep rivers. That was unlikely where they lived if they were real. Almost every creature now lived in a human style residence, but they usually lived as close to their ancestral habitat as possible. Nothing said how long a lavellan lived though so if they were very long lived then they might still favour their traditional style of living. 

Most of the short references he did find to them marked them as legendary. The authors believed they either never existed and were merely part of local folklore, or that they had long since become extinct. 

The other outstanding matter was the motivation. Why would a creature previously thought not to exist go around killing a random selection of humans. Maybe Peter or… or the Inspector would know. He clamped down on thinking of Thursday as his father. That would surely only lead to madness. Maybe he ought to transfer to another unit? But he had set up the Oxford Guard and he was loathe to leave the eclectic team he had assembled here.

The only thing stopping him obsessing endlessly about his situation with Thursday was his arm. It ached solidly as his demon physiology worked to try and close the wounds.

Morning brought the very man that was plaguing his thoughts to his door. Peter knocked and then the two men entered. Thursday gave him a meaningful look which he did his best to ignore. 

“Jakes filled me in on the latest. How did your research go?”

“We’ve got two possible areas to search. I’ve had answers from every academic I could think to contact that they know nothing on this creature so we’re working almost blind. Plus we’ve still got no idea of the motivation.”

Peter cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I might have an idea.”

“Go on?”

“You said about rivers. Does that mean they might be protective of them, or need them as a home and hunting ground?”

“Quite possibly, yes.”

“I looked back through the files again and they’ve all got links to a local chemical plant at some point or other in their lives. They all had the same role in managing the outlet to the river to ensure nothing untreated was released. It didn’t flag up as a connection as they were never there at the same time and the company changed names a couple of times. I did some cross referencing and there were spillages recorded while two of them were there. What if there was for the other two and they just managed to avoid getting caught?”

Thursday raised an eyebrow at Peter. “Did you get any sleep last night?” From the way Peter dodged meeting Thursday’s eye he suspected not.

Endeavour nodded and ignored his father’s unanswered question. “That makes sense. So, why now? Why wait until now to kill them?” There was a long silence. No one had any ideas. “Right, well, Lieutenant Trewlove and I plan to go and search the two areas in question.”

“You’ll need back up. Jakes and I will come with you.” Thursday insisted.

He shook his head. “There is significant danger to humans from this creature. We’ll go alone.” 

“And you’re telling me its not a danger to you?” Thursday crossed his arms, clearly annoyed at being contradicted.

“No. However, I have undergone an extensive amount of training and have a notable level of magical ability. You are purely human, without even the magic of Sergeant Jakes.” 

“And when you encounter a problem that you can’t solve with magic? What will you do then? You might be fast, but with that arm out of action you’re at a disadvantage.” His father frowned, his voice raising.

“I don’t rely on magic. I use it where necessary. Furthermore, I’ve had plenty of experience on investigations, I achieved my rank on merit. Don’t make me use that rank.” He hadn’t intended to, but his voice had become louder, more forceful, in response to the frustration in Thursday’s tone. He deliberately ignored the remark about his arm – he couldn’t deny it was a problem. 

He knew he shouldn’t get into an argument with his father. It would not lead to anything good. Yet, he couldn’t quiet the anxious voice in the back of his mind that didn’t want to put his first real friend and his newly found father in the path of a creature that they knew almost nothing about barring its extreme poisonous ability.

His father looked like he might argue more but instead he reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out a wrapped package. “Fine. You’re going to sink to pulling rank on me – I’m not going to waste my breath arguing.” He thrust the parcel on Endeavour’s desk. “Win made you sandwiches after we talked about your news last night. Try to survive long enough to eat them. She’ll kill us both if you don’t.”

Endeavour stared at the parcel, utterly perplexed. Mrs Thursday had made him sandwiches? His father had told her about him? She had found out her husband had an illegitimate, half-demon, son and her response was to make him sandwiches? His father marched out as he remained frozen, trying to understand the complexities of the human heart.

“I told you they’re good folks.” Peter said, disrupting his trance. He looked up sharply. He’d forgotten there was more than just him and his father in the office. “Are you sure I shouldn’t come along?”

“Sorry, you’re still so far from trained. I won’t put you at risk.” It was an easier call to refuse Peter, and thankfully he accepted it without argument.

\--------

Fred spent the rest of the morning shut in his office. He worked his way steadily through a stack of old paperwork in an attempt to distract himself. It didn’t work. His mind just kept repeating all the things he’d said, and all the things that yet again he hadn’t said.

He needed a chance to actually talk to the lad. The thought of losing him so soon after finding him was unbearable. He couldn’t let it happen. He wouldn’t. Slamming a fist down on his desk, Fred stood and moved to grab his hat and coat. 

It was at that moment that Jakes stumbled into his office. He looked paler than usual, his eyes wide and uncharacteristically expressive.

“Sir, I...” Jakes hesitated as he took in the hat in Fred’s hand. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I just thought it couldn’t harm to be ready. Just in case they did need backup like.” Fred considered Jakes. He almost looked worried. “What was it you wanted me for?” 

“I’m…” Jakes straightened his collar nervously. “Look, this might sound mad, alright, but I have a _bad_ feeling. Like something is going to go wrong. Or perhaps already has.”

Fred let out a slow breath. This was not good. “That doesn’t sound mad at all. Copper gets to trust his instinct over time. Not that I like that both yours and mine are saying something’s up.” 

“What should we do?”

“You know where they were going to be going?”

“Yes.”

Fred considered for a moment. He understood Morse’s ( _his son’s_ ) point about them being vulnerable, but surely there was no harm to be ready nearby if they were needed. He would be damned if he was going to risk getting to know his son after all these years.

“Then we head over there and hang back so we’re on hand just in case.” He said. Jakes visibly relaxed at having the responsibility of going against Morse’s orders taken off his shoulders.

“I’ll get the car.” Jakes said, and then left at a brisk pace.

\--------

Endeavour and Trewlove had quickly eliminated the first site they visited. Shirley had taken one look at the river and declared it was the wrong place. Endeavour didn’t understand how she could be so sure, but he trusted her instincts. She was a creature of the water by nature after all.

They moved on to the next site. Here, the river was wide and deep. It looked deceptively still in the late morning light. There was definitely an ominous feeling about the area. Not that Endeavour wanted to admit he was disposed to such a superstitious reaction.

“He’s here.” Trewlove said. Her expression was serious and she looked around warily as if the creature they sought would simply walk out and announce themselves.

“He?” Endeavour asked.

“I don’t know how, but I know.” She replied. “I have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we ought to get backup.”

Endeavour shook his head. “Matthews is out of action. Mairi couldn’t help until nightfall, and we don’t want to be dealing with anything river related once it’s dark.”

“What about Alder?”

Endeavour paused to consider why he hadn’t thought to contact the hart. He was strong and powerful, but would his reactions in such a delicate situation make things better or worse? He was inclined to believe Alder would be too likely to upset their suspect, and end up the worse for it. No, better he went in with the calming influence of another water creature in the form of Lieutenant Trewlove than add another hostile element alongside himself.

“No. Best keep him in reserve.” He said. Trewlove nodded and he knew she understood all that he hadn’t said. “It is of course your choice if you still wish to accompany me. You are aware how dangerous this suspect could be.”

Trewlove gave a thin smile. “I wouldn’t desert you Commander. Besides, it’s been a long while since I faced anyone that was able to be aggressive to me, it’ll be interesting to see how this one reacts.”

Endeavour couldn’t help but wonder at such a flippant attitude. Nereids truly were fascinating. They made their way along the river bank and came to a row of houses. Most were well tended, but one sat dark and uninviting. He suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature.

\--------

The man that answered the door was small and frail looking. To look at him you wouldn’t have thought he could care for himself, let alone harm anyone else. Yet there was something menacing about him. Perhaps the way his lips curled inwards and his eyes narrowed as he considered the officers of the Guard at his door, or the way his pale and gnarled hand gripped the door digging long fingernails into the wood. Whatever it was, Endeavour couldn’t help but feel he may have made a serious error in coming here with only Trewlove.

Endeavour bowed, they introduced themselves and showed their warrant cards, and still the old man did not speak, nor did he soften in his demeanour as Trewlove sent out waves of reassurance and calm. Yes, he had definitely made a mistake, but there was no going back now. 

“Might we come in, Sir?” Endeavour asked. “We’ve been investigating a series of incidents and have reason to believe that someone in this area may be able to assist with our enquiries.”

The man turned and went back into the house, leaving the door open. Trewlove looked to him for reassurance. He nodded slightly. The man still hadn’t spoken so they would have to take this as the closest to an invitation they would get. They turned and followed the retreating figure through the small cottage and out into a garden that backed onto the river. 

At first glance you might have called it overgrown. Bullrushes staked out the water’s edge then were met by thick tangles of brambles. The gravel path they stood upon was flanked by whispering walls of wild flowers that shivered gently in the cool breeze. Yet the wild growth was evidently tended and cared for. There was something almost artistic in the way the place had been sculpted. Even to Endeavour’s calculating mind the garden offered up a savage sort of beauty.

“Could I ask for your name please, Sir?”

“You can ask all you like.” The man finally spoke. His voice was worn and odd, like the sound of water over a weir. “Doesn’t mean you’ll get an answer.”

Endeavour decided not to press the point. “Have you heard about the recent spate of poisonings?”

The nameless man shrugged and turned his back on them, watching the river. The air was heavy with the peaty smell of damp earth. It was so thick Endeavour could taste it. 

Trewlove reached out as if to lay a hand upon the man’s arm, but before she could he turned back around and glared at her with a malice that immediately set off a warning in Endeavour’s mind. This man was definitely dangerous.

“Your sort shouldn’t be associating with his.” The man said to Trewlove. His eyes narrowed. “What you doing coming around here asking me questions?”

“We… we were just wondering... if you knew anything about the poisonings…” Trewlove stuttered. Endeavour had never seen her look so unsettled. Trewlove dealt with most situations with an ease of manner he envied.

“Of course I do. You’re both here for a reason aren’t you. _You know._ Not like there’s any more of my kind to pin it on.” The man said and he turned back to the river once more.

A confession. It was not what Endeavour had been expecting, and far from improving things this made the situation much worse. For him to so readily admit he was the killer could only speak of either an absolute confidence he could evade the two of them, or that he had no disregard for his own well being.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come back with us to the Guard offices to answer a few questions.” Endeavour said with very little confidence it would make any impression on the man.

“No. I don’t think I shall go with you.” The man said, much as Endeavour had expected. 

“I will bring you in with force if necessary.” This was his last card. If the man responded as he feared…

“Your magic has nothing on my poison and you know it. I could kill you where you’re standing.” 

Yes, exactly as he feared. Endeavour tried to give Trewlove a reassuring look. Her covert sigh told him it hadn’t been convincing.

“Perhaps you could. Or perhaps I am stronger. I’d rather not find out. Let’s not make this situation any worse than it already is. Come in with us and we can talk.” He tried to sound as authoritative as possible but he knew the effort was most likely futile. If this went as badly as he now expected he would need to think of a pretext to get Trewlove out.

“Talk?” The man scoffed. “What about?”

“About the four men you have killed.”

“Five.” The man said. That took him by surprise. There was another victim they had yet to find? “Soon to be six if you don’t leave.”

“Is that a threat, Sir?” 

“No. A promise.” The man sighed then turned back to face them. “Look, I’ve killed everyone I set out to now. I don’t want to kill you. Why can’t you just leave me in peace? I’ve lived far too long for this.”

“You know that we can’t do that.” Endeavour said.

The man looked to Trewlove, his face softening just slightly. “Then the girl should go. Leave us to sort this between us.”

Endeavour nodded his agreement even as Trewlove made a sound of protest.  
“You’re dismissed Lieutenant.”

“But, Sir!” The panic on Trewlove’s face was evident. 

“I said, _you’re dismissed._ ” He tried to convey with his expression and his tone what he really meant - _‘Go for help. Get back up.’_ He wasn’t used to being expressive so he hoped that he had managed to get his message across.

Trewlove hesitated a few seconds longer, then turned to leave, regret evident on her face. Endeavour sent a silent plea to the gods that he would see her again. Once she was out of sight he looked to the man again.

“Won’t you reconsider giving me your name, Sir?” Endeavour asked the man. “I don’t see what harm it could do now.”

“No. You don’t see.” The man said. “You want my true name, not the one I’ve taken on this lifetime. My true name is mine and mine alone. The only one that knew it has gone now. I won’t dishonour their memory by telling the likes of you.”

Endeavour wasn’t so unfamiliar with emotion that he couldn’t recognise the profound and consuming grief that filled the man before him. So he had lost someone. Was that what had sparked all of this?

“What would they think about what you’ve done?” He said. It was a risky question but perhaps if he could call on a better memory he could regain some control of the situation.

“They’d be angry.” The man said. “They never had a bad bone in their body. Not a one. No matter what folks said of us they were good and pure and true. They’d have a lot to say to me about what I done. But you know what? I don’t give a damn. Those humans killed my love. They deserved what they got. I’d do it again. My life is meaningless without… without.”

“The human men you murdered, they killed your lover?”

“As good as. The river gone bad so many times it did for them. Gets in the body see. We can’t flush it out unless we put the poison on someone. They’d never have harmed so much as a bug. Last one was too much and they… they died. Up until then they always stopped me doing harm but I knew who’d done what. I had my list. I took names and once they were gone... Those humans had to pay for what they did so I put my poison on them.”

“So this was revenge?” Endeavour wasn’t sure what his plan was at this point. Mostly just to try to keep the old man talking until back up arrived.

“Simple as.”

“And what do you plan to do now?”

The man shrugged. “Die probably. In time. Not that I want any more of it now. I’ve had plenty of lifetimes to see how evil this world can be.”

“How old are you?”

Again the man shrugged, but this time he did not answer.

Endeavour cast about for something to keep him talking. He wasn’t a natural conversationalist so he fell back on the case. “You mentioned a fifth victim?”

“I only did him earlier today. You’ll find him soon enough. I saved him until last since he was a creature and all. Kin of a sort. If I was going to fail to take any one of them out I wanted it to be him.”

A creature? Endeavour cast his mind to try and think if he’d seen any reports that could be link. Suddenly it struck him. 

“A lycan? It was you took the aconitum?”

“Yes, needed him changed. They’re too strong lycans are. Not many folk can overcome our… my... poison but they’re one of them.”

“Not Matthews?” Endeavour asked hastily. 

“Who? No. Some fella named Allen.”

There was a wave of relief at the unfamiliar name despite the fact it meant they had failed to protect yet another person. He hadn’t realised how well he regarded the young Ensign until he thought that he could be a possible victim. As he tried to steady his heart rate he tried to think of another topic. _Just keep him talking._

“Why are there no records of your kind? We found nothing beyond hearsay and rumours about lavellans. That is what you are, isn’t it?”

The man nodded. “I’m a lavellan alright. Last one actually. Humans killed all the rest generations ago. There never were many of us in the first place. We only survived because we’d moved down here.”

Endeavour opened his mouth to ask another question but the old man cut him off before he could speak.

“Well then. I think I’m done answering questions. So, are you going to go and leave me in peace, or am I going to have to kill you now?”

“I don’t see the options as being so binary, Sir.”

The old man sighed, his eyes were clouded and filled with a depth of sadness Endeavour couldn’t even begin to comprehend. 

“Then I have no choice.” The man said, and flicked the very tips of his fingers. 

Endeavour instinctively reached for his magic to defend himself but there was not the slightest amount of time between the man’s action and its effects. There was nothing to see beyond that tiny act, the flick of the fingertips, yet Endeavour felt it in every molecule of his being. The poison swept through him like a wave. His magic responded instinctively. He’d fought off a fraction of residual poison before in Jakes. He knew the basics of what he needed to do. 

It was futile. There was so much poison. Too much. He pushed and pushed at it and though it cleared some there was still far too much in his body. 

As his vision darkened and he fell to the ground, Endeavour saw only two things. 

Before him the old man crumpled too. He let out a gasp of air, like he’d been holding a breath, and the light of life left his eyes. A distant part of Endeavour's slowly dying mind wondered what had killed the lavellan.

The second thing he saw was a figure rushing towards him, arm reaching out as if to catch him. He couldn’t see the man’s face but he heard the press of the gravel beneath those hurrying feet, the whisper of tall grass catching on a thick woolen overcoat, the smell of tobacco and sandwiches.

He was too late of course, but he was there, he had come. Endeavour was going to die, but his father was here by his side and holding his hand. 

No one ever touched him. He’d craved it and feared it in equal measure. Yet here in this fateful moment things were simpler. 

He wasn’t human or demon. He wasn’t either-or anything. He was just himself. His whole self for the first time in his life. He was just Endeavour, who was dying, and his father was holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeek! Don't kill me! I promise you if it isn't in the tags it doesn't happen.
> 
> I'll do my best not to leave you hanging too long with this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it wouldn't be that long for this final chapter and that I've left you with a rather dead Endeavour Morse for three weeks, so my apologies! I knew exactly what happens in this chapter but could I get it out of my head and onto the page? No. There was also the small matter of getting distracted. Expect some more fics sometime in the next couple of months!  
> Anyways, here we go, hope you enjoy it!

The first thing that Fred saw as they approached the second site that had been noted as a possible location was Lieutenant Trewlove. Well, he didn’t so much see her as almost crash into her. She was driving Endeavour’s car almost down the middle of the small country road. Luckily, as their eyes met, she slammed on the brakes and Jakes managed to swerve out of the way.

Before he even had a chance to recover from the shock of the abrupt halt, Trewlove was at the side of the car and knocking on the window. Fred opened the door, hands still shaking.

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” Trewlove looked back in the direction she had come from. She was evidently concerned about more than the near miss with the cars.

“Lieutenant, what’s happened? Where is- where’s the Commander?” Fred tried not to imagine the worst.

“We found him. We found the killer. Commander Morse sent me for backup.”

Well that was a relief at least. If he had sent Trewlove for backup then hopefully Endeavour couldn’t be in too much trouble already. 

Jakes did not look relieved. “Where is he? Where is Morse?”

“He’s back there,” she gestured wildly back along the road, “with _him!_ With the lavellan. He made me leave to get back up. Sir, I’m really worried. Sometimes I think he forgets… he can’t do everything alone. That man threatened to kill us.”

Fred’s blood ran cold. What was the boy thinking? Confronting a suspect alone when he was weakened was madness!

“Right. Take us there and we’ll see what we can do, Jakes is soon to be one of yours after all, then you can go for more... specialist back up.” Fred tried to convey a confidence he didn’t feel in his tone. His skin felt electrified. He had known something was wrong about this. The sense of dread he had felt in the office intensified. 

Jakes and Trewlove shared a look that did nothing to ease the fear but thankfully neither of them argued with his orders.

\--------

The cottage didn’t appear noteworthy at all, with the possible exception of the height of the weeds in the small front garden, but even with only his untrained magic there was something about it that made Peter shiver. The three of them paused by the front door. Trewlove looked him in the eye and he knew that there was no way she was going to let them go in without her.

“Sir, I think perhaps we ought to bring Lieutenant Trewlove with us.” He said. 

Trewlove nodded, “I am much more familiar with… certain procedures than Sergeant Jakes. There could be a situation-” 

Trewlove didn’t get to finish her sentence. A wave of something that filled Peter with a nausea unlike anything he had ever felt before hit him. He promptly doubled over and was violently ill. Dimly he was aware of Trewlove gasping for air. Inspector Thursday seemed thankfully unaffected. 

“What the-?”

“Sir,” Trewlove managed to gasp, “the garden. They’re in the back garden. What just hit was the effect of a demon dying. Go! Please!”

Thursday was running through the house and out of sight before she even finished speaking. 

Peter forced himself to stand upright. The nausea had faded as suddenly as it had arrived, but the memory of it left him feeling weak. He offered a supporting arm to Trewlove and the pair hurried through the house as fast as they could go.

When they reached the garden the scene before them was enough to break even the hardest of hearts. Thursday knelt at Endeavour’s side, holding his hand. The expression on his face was one Peter hoped never to see again. Rage and loss, grief and guilt, so much pain written across his features. 

An old man was laid flat on the ground, like a mirror image of Endeavour, his eyes wide and unseeing. _What the hell had happened here?!_

“Sir?”

“He can’t be… He’s not… not…” Thursday couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but Peter could see that Endeavour’s chest was still. 

Something constricted in his own chest. He’d known him for such a short time, but Endeavour had been a true friend to him. He had saved his life twice. They had confided in one another. He had told him things he’d never told another soul. Had he even said thank you? Why couldn’t he remember?

He’d never even got a chance to teach him about making tea.

“What happened? Did you see what happened?” Peter asked. His voice sounded broken even to his own ears.

“No… they both just… they fell. I don’t know…” Thursday shook Endeavour’s shoulder. “He can’t be gone. Not just like that. I’ve only just… I never got to tell him…” Thursday was lost to his grief. The ever strong man of action was gone and all that was left was a father who had lost a son. 

Trewlove stood taller, stopped leaning on Peter as much, as Thursday spoke. She looked between the bodies, her forehead creasing in a frown. 

“I thought I read something…” She muttered.

Like a flash it came back to Peter. There had been so little about lavellans so Peter had memorised each and every snippet, no matter how implausible it sounded. He looked to Trewlove and their eyes met and he knew she was thinking the same thing.

“The river. We’ve got to get him to the river.” He said.

“But what if-”

“If it’s wrong then we’re no worse off than we are now.”

“And if we’re right…”

Peter looked to the fast flowing waters even as Trewlove hurried forward. The river was deep and the currents strong. 

“But how-” Peter began to wonder.

“I can hold him. I’m not a water creature for nothing you know.” Trewlove said.

Peter hurried forward and joined Trewlove at their fallen Commander. Thursday looked up at them. His face was a dreadful blank. 

“Sir, we need to try something. We need to get him in the river.” Peter said as gently as he could.

Thursday blinked as he processed the words, then frowned. “Why would you… Why…”

“There’s no time to explain” Peter reached to take hold of Endeavour’s body but Thursday shoved him away.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Thursday shouted at him.

Peter sighed. They were losing time. But he wouldn’t be able to overpower his DI if he decided to fight to defend his son’s body. He would have to explain. “There’s something in one of the references we found. It said that if an affected person were submerged in the waters the lavellan lives in then he could be washed free of the poison.”

“But he’ll drown!” 

“Sir, he’s dead right now.” Trewlove said with the most heartbreaking kindness Peter had ever heard. “Neither Peter nor I have the strength or the training to remove the poison. Unless the poison is removed there is no chance to try and revive him.”

Thursday stared at the young nereid. Peter watched as the anger drained away from him leaving only fear and the slightest trace of hope. 

“What do we need to do?” He asked.

“If you and Sergeant Jakes can carry him over to the river and then lower him in I can hold him safe in the flow. I’ll know once the poison is washed clear. Then I’ll need you both to lift him clear when I bring him up.”

Thursday nodded his understanding and immediately gathered his son into his arms and hurried to the river bank. Trewlove ran ahead of him. She threw off her jacket and shoes and then jumped into the water. Peter followed along behind feeling like a spare part until Trewlove resurfaced, reaching out her arms for Endeavour, and Thursday looked to him for assistance. Together they carefully lowered his form into Trewlove’s arms. Peter had only a moment to wonder at her unexpected strength and the strange blue scales that covered her arms before she sank smoothly beneath the surface. 

The water was too murky and dark to see much beyond the bright halo of Trewlove’s golden hair. 

Time seemed to lose all meaning. Peter itched to pace, to move in a way that would clear the tension in his aching limbs, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from that one bright point of hope in the water. Thursday, stood beside him, was rigid and unblinking. 

Every few seconds Peter had to remind himself to breathe. 

How long had it been now? Surely this was too long. 

What if they succeeded in removing the poison but Endeavour really did drown? What if they couldn’t save him.

Peter rolled his shoulders to try and ease some of the taut muscles that were giving him a headache.

What if it had been too long?

Thursday made a desperate sound in his throat that spoke of exactly how he was feeling.

Didn’t Trewlove need to breathe if nothing else? Why was his mind suddenly entirely blank on nereid facts. What if something had happened to her? Should he be jumping in to drag them both out? No, if something had happened to Trewlove she would have been washed away by the current. 

His mind resumed its panicked loop. It must have been too long now.

After a tortuously long time that may have been only a minute Trewlove resurfaced, holding out the now drenched body of Commander Endeavour Morse.

Peter and Thursday reached out and managed an awkward hold to get him back onto dry land. Trewlove pulled herself up the bank to join them, the blue scales fading as the breeze began drying her skin.

“The poison has gone. I managed to keep the water from entering his body, but he still needs to start breathing again.”

Peter nodded and got Endeavour laid flat on his back. “Okay, let’s try CPR.” 

“There’s a spell that would be quicker and more efficient.” Trewlove said. “I’m too drained, but I could show you?” She held out her hand.

Peter was shocked for a moment, but then he nodded and let Trelove take his hand to pass the knowledge directly to him. It was a sign of great trust for a nereid to use their psychic link. It left their whole mind open to the other person while it took place. If Trewlove thought about anything she didn’t want Peter to know, or if he went looking for anything, then he would see it. He tried to use some of the control techniques Endeavour had taught him to focus his thoughts on only what he needed to know. The feel of the knowledge entering his mind was one of the strangest sensations he had ever felt. How could he ever explain the feeling of having someone else’s memories in his own mind. 

There was no time to dwell on it. He needed to focus on saving Endeavour. 

Hesitantly he placed his hand on the cold, still, chest of his friend and began the spell. He could sense Thursday watching him, waiting, holding his breath. 

The magic almost tore itself out of him as the spell was completed. For one brief moment it was as if Endeavour’s body was bathed in a pale and unnatural light.

And then he took a breath.

\--------

Endeavour felt like he was surfacing from the bottom of a very deep well. His eyes were open but it took a long time for the darkness to push away from the centre so he could see clearly.

Gathered around him were Trewlove, Jakes, and Inspector Thursday. 

Trewlove was vaguely blue, and were those scales? Had she been in the water?

From the way his clothes clung to him, and the cold that the breeze drove deep into his bones he thought perhaps he had too.

Jakes… no, Peter, they were friends now he recalled… was pale and had one hand laid on his chest. What had he done? Something to over-extend himself again. He would have to take care of that… when he could move again. 

Why were his limbs so heavy?

Finally there was Inspector Thursday, whose expression was one filled with so many complexities of feeling that he couldn’t begin to understand. And yet there was something in it that pulled at him. He looked… he looked… 

And then he remembered. 

He remembered that Fred Thursday was his father. He remembered falling. He remembered a warm hand in his own cold one like a tether to this world even as he slipped away. He remembered the dark nothingness of death creeping into his veins.

He took another gasping breath, and another, and another. 

It was like the floodgates had opened and everything he had ever tried to keep at bay was rushing through him all at once. How did people ever manage it? How did they cope when there was so much to _feel_?

Peter moved back and his father reached round to pull him close, to pull him into a hug. 

He had never been hugged before.

What did people do with their arms? Not that his were doing what he told them right now, and the injured one was doubly useless. 

He was surprised to find his face was wet again. Was this… was he crying?

His father rubbed circles on his shoulder-blade and made soothing noises like he had heard humans do to small children or scared animals.

“I’m sorry.” He eventually managed to say with a broken voice that sounded nothing like his own.

“It’s okay son. It’ll be okay. No need for that now. We’ll get you home and Win will see you right.”

\--------

His arguments that he would be fine fell on deaf ears. His father was actively ignoring him every time he said he would just go home and rest. Peter just raised an eyebrow at him when he tried to get in his car and drive then bundled him into the back of the police issued car. Trewlove gave him an amused smile that told him he would find no help there. Peter and Trewlove would wait for back up and deal with the scene then bring his car back. He sank into the back seat of the police car and tried to sleep but every time he closed his eyes a wave of fear would wash over him.

The drive back to the Thursday’s house was painfully silent. Normally he would be fine with the lack of chatter, but for once he wanted something to break the tension between the two of them. The unspoken truths stretched between them. Endeavour tried to recall how it was he had felt so content in just being when he was dying but he couldn’t think straight for all the worries he was carrying.

Eventually they pulled up outside the Thursday’s house. Endeavour waited for Thursday to get out of the car first but instead he remained in the front seat, gripping the steering wheel.

“I thought I had lost you back there.” Thursday said.

“I survived.”

“No. You were saved. Jakes and Trewlove saved you. You would be dead otherwise. You _were_ dead. And I couldn’t do anything. There was nothing I could do to save you.” 

Endeavour wanted to get out of the car and run away from this conversation. There were too many big, raw, uncomfortable emotions in play.

He cast about for some human kind of platitude to reassure his father. “That’s not your fault. My actions that led to what happened were my own.”

“Maybe.” Thursday sighed “But if I had known… If I had been able to bring you home after, then maybe things would have been different.”

Endeavour frowned, confused. “You _have_ brought me home.”

Thursday turned in his seat and their eyes met. There was still so much grief there. Endeavour shied away from it by sinking back into himself. He knew his eyes had shifted from the slight twitch in his father’s face.

“I meant after your mother died.” His father said.

“Oh.”

“I wish I had known. If only Joyce, I mean Constance, had told me.”

“Then what would you have done?”

“Done right by her of course.”

“And what about Mrs Thursday?”

Thursday shrugged. “Who knows what would have happened and even whether Constance would have accepted me or not. What really matters is that regardless of that, I would have done right by you.”

Endeavour was at a loss for what he meant but he didn’t know how to ask, so instead he just said, “Oh.”

“Son, I would’ve wanted to be part of your life, and when your mother passed, I would have had you come here to live with us, if that was what you wanted of course. I’d definitely not have let them put you in that wretched Academy.”

The thoughts of a life with a human family, a life free of the rigidity of the Academy, was inconceivable to Endeavour, but he found that he understood the sentiment. He remembered his mother’s silent, inexpressive, condemnation of the place. He knew that she had loved him in her way, and so he remembered what it was to know the care of a parent, and that was what he felt from his father now. So he really must care. What was he supposed to do with that information as a grown adult presenting as entirely demon?

“Look,” his father continued, “when I thought I’d lost you back there, it was the worst feeling I have ever had in my entire life. All I could think was how I hadn’t been able to do anything for you, ever. I wanted to apologise and I couldn’t even do that. So, here’s how it goes – I am sorry son. I am sorry I failed you then and before. And you’ll always have a place here with _your_ family.”

Endeavour didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply nodded. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” His father gave him a tentative smile. “I can’t promise you Win won’t kill you for getting yourself in trouble again.”

\--------

Mrs Thursday set upon the pair of them as soon as they got into the house. She was unstoppable as she herded him to the bathroom for a warming bath and pressed spare clothes into his hands. Endeavour couldn’t help but think that a woman like this would run the Guard or the police far more efficiently and compassionately than anyone else he had ever met.

He tried to go home after but was pressured into staying for dinner. He was so tired from the events of the day that he suspected his attempts to remain impassive and keep his expression blank were useless. Mrs Thursday’s warm smile and smug look as he ate the casserole she had made faster than he had ever eaten anything in his life confirmed those suspicions. 

He didn’t even argue that he needed to return to his flat afterwards. He was as exhausted as he had ever felt. Being temporarily dead evidently took it out of you. He collapsed onto a soft mattress and warm sheets and let sleep overtake him.

The next morning found him up with the dawn. It was probably far too early for humans so he used his powers of stealth to creep downstairs. He made his way into the kitchen in search of water and was met with the sight of his suit hung on the door. It was clean and pressed, and smarter than it had looked for a long time. He knew he made sure his looks were immaculate and he’d received the highest training in maintaining an appearance, so he found himself running his hand over the dark fabric in wonder, trying to detect what magic had been used. 

“I hope I got it right. I know how particular demons can be.” Mrs Thursday’s voice came from behind him. Only years of training stopped him from jumping out of his skin. How had he not heard her approaching?

“It looks perfect, thank you.” He said with genuine appreciation and tried for a smile to better convey his sentiments. The wide smile he got in return made it worth the effort.

“Would you like some tea? I usually have a cuppa now while I get everything ready for the day.”

“That is a kind offer, but I need to leave shortly. I have an appointment at the Council’s head office to debrief on the case.”

“Surely you don’t need to be off so early.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Endeavour felt a sense of regret at leaving. He gathered up the suit and turned to go back upstairs and change. “I am sorry to have disturbed you so early.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m always up with the lark. You should be getting your rest though.”

As ever Endeavour was lost in what to say when presented with a caring human. He settled for nodding formally and hurried from the room.

It didn’t take long to change, but with his injured arm and his still aching muscles his tie proved much harder than usual. He got it to a reasonable length but was uncomfortably conscious that it wasn’t up to his usual exacting standards.

He came back down the stairs to find Mrs Thursday waiting for him with a package. 

“I made you a bacon buttie, love. Got to have a good breakfast when you’re healing.” She pressed the still warm package into his hands and, whilst he was unable to deflect her, reached up and fixed his tie. 

Endeavour stood as still as a statue. Mrs Thursday was conscious not to touch him any more than necessary but still… he remembered another time, another hallway, another pair of women’s hands fixing his tie when he had been too young to do it efficiently. Being in this house was like a drug to the part of him that craved affection and simple familial gestures.

“Thank you… for everything.” He said, and then awkwardly tried to give Mrs Thursday a hug. It felt like it was the thing that was meant to be done in such a scenario. He tried not to examine the part of him that _wanted_ to hug someone too closely. This whole expressing his feelings business was still so very new and unfamiliar. He thought he saw a gleam of tears in Mrs Thursday’s eyes when he pulled back.

“You’re very welcome, love. We’re both just so glad to have found you, and that you’re safe now.”

“I should be getting back to my flat.” He said, examining his shoes to hide the blush that had forced its way onto his face.

Mrs Thursday swatted him very gently on the arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. No child of ours is looking after themselves after such an ordeal. You’ll come back after that silly meeting of yours and stay here until you’re properly recovered.”

He didn’t have it in his heart to point out he wasn’t exactly a child, and he wasn’t even hers. In the face of such ruthless kindness he was utterly helpless, and so he came back as ordered, and so he stayed.

\--------

Life in the Thursday house took some getting used to. He kept trying to go back to his flat, but Win wouldn’t hear of it. He didn’t want to break some social rules he didn’t fully understand so he bowed to her will.

Once he went back to work he thought he might find a way to slip away from her attentions but somehow that only made it worse. She fretted over the hours he worked, his lack of sleep, his need to eat properly.

He couldn’t deny the routine of it was nice. He liked talking with Mrs Thursday early in the morning over tea, and late at night with his father over something more alcoholic. He hadn’t shared a room with anyone since the Academy, but it was strangely comforting on the nights he did need to come back and sleep to have Sam’s gentle snoring so close. And then there was Joan, who was so utterly different to him, and yet strangely easy to spend time with. He had never considered what having siblings might be like, but he genuinely enjoyed their company.

Over time he relaxed into the easy comfort of family life. He didn’t even notice it had been three months he had been staying at the house until one morning his eyes fixed upon the calendar on the kitchen wall. Win was cooking bacon and Dad was whistling in the bathroom. When had he begun thinking of them that way? When had he stopped trying to go back to his flat? When had this house become ‘home’?

“What are you smiling at?” His father asked as he walked into the room. 

Win turned and handed them both mugs of tea.

“Leave him be, Fred.” She said and winked at Endeavour.

“Thank you, Win.” He said, his smile growing wider. 

He didn’t realise he had called her ‘Win’ rather than ‘Mrs Thursday’ until she was flinging her arms around him in a surprise hug. He rapidly moved his mug to safety.

“Oh!” Win jumped back, suddenly alarmed. “I am so sorry, Endeavour love. It’s just with you calling me Win and all – and now I’ve gone and called you Endeavour! Is that okay? Can I call you that? Should I call you Morse still?” Win was babling.

“Steady Win.” His father laid a reassuring hand on Win’s shoulder.

“It’s alright. You can call me Endeavour of you like.” He managed to say, although his chest felt very tight at that moment. “And if you don’t mind I could call you Win?”

“Of course! Of course that’s fine!” Win tried to covertly dab at the tears that had filled her eyes with her apron.

Endeavour gathered together what little remained of his courage and looked to his father.

“Perhaps… Perhaps when we’re not at work I might call you something more familiar too?”

“Son, you can call me whatever you like.” His father said with a small smile. “And if you ever wanted to call me Dad like your brother and sister do that would be wonderful. But there’s no pressure there at all.”

“No, I… I did mean that actually. I would like to be able to call you Dad if that was alright with you.”

Win twitched. Endeavour was fairly certain she was restraining herself from tackle hugging him again. His father simply smiled, and then gave him a deep and precise bow. The kind of bow one used to acknowledge a close family member. When had his father learned that?

His father straightened up and gave him a wink. “Son, it would be an honour.” Then he walked out of the room, whistling once more (was that one of his operas?), leaving Endeavour to recover his composure. Win picked his tea back up and handed it to him again before turning back to making breakfast. 

He held the steaming mug of tea tightly between his palms. He hoped they couldn’t see how hard he was gripping it. Nothing could have prepared him for this new life. He hadn’t known what to dream of when he was younger. Was this it? Was this what he would’ve dreamed about if he’d known. He set those thoughts aside. There was no use wondering about what ifs. The only logical course was to look forward, and so far he liked what he saw. It was awkward, it was new, but it was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *singing happily to myself* Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to meeee, I finished this fiiiiiccc, Happy Birthday to meee!!! 
> 
> It is amazing what a child free day can do for your word count. As evidenced by my getting this wrapped up finally. I'm 23,500 words over the maximum word count I was aiming for and this took me 5 months rather than 1 but it was all worth it. I may still tag on a little side scene of Peter teaching Endeavour to make tea sometime but with how flighty my brain is currently I'm making no promises.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that commented, kudos-ed, or read this fic. It was something I've wanted to do for a while now and it was such fun to write for all that I got stuck sometimes. And thank you of course to darling Hekate whose fics so inspired me to take the leap and write in this complicated but wonderful universe of AUs. If you've not read their works, and particularly 'Contrast' the AU of this AU of their AU (yes you did read that right) then please do, you'll be in for a treat!
> 
> (For those in the know - See! *yeets the detective* really does work.)


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